


Jaded Amber

by olimakiella



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non Consensual, Original Character Death(s), Prostitution, Werewolves, then consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-07
Updated: 2012-10-08
Packaged: 2017-11-15 19:25:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 32,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/530841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olimakiella/pseuds/olimakiella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucius never would have thought that such an impulsive act of rebellion – spurred by Rabastan, of all people – would change his life so profoundly. Remus never would have thought that accepting one unlikely client would have such a profound effect on his outlook.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kinky_kneazle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinky_kneazle/gifts).



> Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended. The HP Lexicon must be credited for the gratuitous amounts of information it holds and the allowances I could then take with the information it could not provide. Also, credit must go to Kalendar-365 for the awesome lunar calendar, of which the dates of this are based around. Behind the Name website must be credited for the name 'Sabine' (‘The Sabines were an ancient people who lived in central Italy, their lands eventually taken over by the Romans after several wars. According to legend, the Romans abducted several Sabine women during a raid, and when the men came to rescue them, the women were able to make peace between the two groups.’ behindthename.com/name/sabina). Peevish.com must be credited for their delightful 1970s slang terms including but not limited to the awesome: 'wank bank'. Dates and information on Mabon came from Wikipedia. Finally, Google Earth, you're a Godsend and glastonburyfestivals.co.uk for the information on Glastonbury Fayre 1978.
> 
> Written for HP_Sextars fest of 2011. The prompt: The only way a werewolf can earn a living is on his back.
> 
> It should be noted that very little is known about Lucius’ parents except his father died of Dragon Pox. Very little is also known of Remus' parents except that his father pissed off Fenrir Greyback so badly, the guy attacked his son. Okay, I saw this prompt and immediately had to have it, scenarios and one liners forming in my head as soon as I read it. I ran with this and created something I never would have created if it hadn’t been for this fest. I want to thank Hiddi for giving me some very helpful feedback in our FB chats and kinky_kneazle for being so out of the box and coming up with something like this. Also big thanks to the speediest beta ever, crazyparakiss. You saved my life, seriously. I also really want to thank the mods for being so understanding in a time of difficultly and allowing me my time to grieve. I’m giving a side dedication to y’all for being so wonderful. It meant a lot to me and I do appreciate it.

Lucius stared. The man in his bed lay prone, as silent in his sleep as he was awake. He’d snuck him in through the kitchen’s entrance late last night. This was the third time. The simple act of rebellion, instigated by Rabastan on Lucius’ twenty-fourth birthday, seemed like a good idea after seven straight snifters of Ogden’s Finest, until the young man in his bed had turned up. Ever since school, Lucius knew never to trust Rabastan’s ideas. Everyone knew he was a few sickles short of a galleon when off his arse. He still didn’t know the young man’s name. The only thing he did know, the only thing he needed to know, was that the young man was  _very_  good at his job. He seemed too young to have been doing it enough to get so much experience, but Lucius wasn’t one to judge on people’s professions, especially when they were so useful. The trees by his bedroom in the east wing moved outside, swaying in the morning breeze, breaking the spears of bright sunlight that shone through. The shadows made by the leaves ran across the man’s strong back like water, back and forth. It was... calming in a way. Lucius had no idea how long he’d been sitting there staring. It was just that, for some reason, the replete and deeply relaxed form in front of him, despite being in such an alien environment, was so immersed in the task of sleeping, it was incredible. The man lay on his stomach, his arms stretched up beside his head and hands buried under the pillow beneath. His hair, long enough to grasp and pull, was in disarray and fell across his face hiding his eyes, the colour of which Lucius had never seen before. One leg lay buried beneath the twisted white sheets while the other was hiked high enough to escape them and the comforter that had been kicked to the bottom edge.  
  
The trust the man exhibited was astounding. Any Slytherin worth their salt would have been facing him with a wand at least a half hour ago. He had him gauged as a Hufflepuff, or maybe a Gryffindor. Lucius cocked his head to the side as he studied him. When he’d first shown up, Lucius had actually had to ask him how old he was, after overcoming the initial awkwardness a business deal like theirs encompassed. A rather smart, ‘ _I apparated here with your co-ordinates_ ’, was his answer. When Lucius remained silent, he received a cocked eyebrow and a curt, ‘ _We can wait for the owl from the Improper Use of Magic Office – that will never come – if you want. It’s your money_.’   
  
 _Hmm, perhaps a Ravenclaw, then._  
  
A deep sigh alerted him the brunet was waking up. Slow movement evolved to all out stretching and Lucius watched the long lines of the man’s hard body exposed to him in the sunlight. He used it well the night before, until the droning sounds of lectures and the monotonous tones in the business meetings he’d been in all day – that threatened to make him lobotomise himself with the cane his father continuously carted around – were drowned out by sighs and pleading whispers. They’d become music to his ears and, as he sank into the man repeatedly, the pressures of the day had just faded into the background. The brunet’s head shifted and a sleepy moan softly filled his room. Eyelids tightened before they opened, showcasing a spectacular set of amber irises Lucius couldn’t believe was natural. He could tell when they finally focused on the room he was in, on the blond man in the chair watching him.  
  
“Creepy, but not the worst I’ve seen.” The voice was laced with sleep. Lucius ignored the words. Languidly, the Ravenclaw-Gryffindor mix sat up, yawned and looked around Lucius’ room. His eyes falling on his clothes, he scooted to the edge of the king size bed and scooped them up. “Can I use your bathroom?” he asked, but it was evident in his tone he wasn’t too bothered with how Lucius would answer. When Lucius nodded, he walked across the room into Lucius’ bathroom, shutting the door behind him. As the latch bolt clicked into the slide plate, the relaxed, calm feeling began to edge away. Lucius stood and walked to his wardrobe. Today was Tuesday. He had to go to the bank with his father today to check on the Malfoy family investments. It was the main method of ensuring self-preservation, a signature trait of any Slytherin, of any Malfoy. He’d been receiving tuition on the contents of the vaults since he was thirteen, now he had to learn the strategies if he was to take over the leadership role. After all, as his father often said,  _‘Being a Malfoy is not only an honour, but a privilege. It is _not_  a right.’_ If he wanted to keep everything the name gave him, he had to earn it. He had to know his place, he had to understand his role, and he had to look the part.  
  
Lucius looked in the floor-length mirror attached to his wardrobe and rolled his eyes. The length of his hair had been a major issue, it being the mark of the figurehead of the family. He’d known his father, Abraxas, to have long hair since before he could remember. A lot of older men had long hair. Lucius, however, did not consider himself to be old by any standard. Besides, wizards lived for at least a century, what was the point of growing it now? He hated it, especially at the length it was now, too long to be styled, too short to be pulled back. It was his mother, in the end, who convinced him to let it go. It was just hair. In secret, after his father had left the room, she’d told him he could just chop it off when the man died and that would be that. The comment had her desired effect and made him smile, which was something. He sighed, letting it go. The argument was not worth it and his father was difficult enough to deal with, without Lucius starting something unnecessary. The day at the bank and the lawyer’s office was going to be bad enough. He didn’t even want to think about the Ministry gathering tomorrow evening. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Opening them, he pulled the first door of his wardrobe open and selected the first set of black formal robes he could see, laying them out on his bed. The rumpled sheets drew his attention, pulling to mind the man in his bathroom. His eyes drifted across his room to the mahogany door. Relaxation was something he could do with right now, a way to get rid of the stress and feel somewhat sane for the rest of the day. As if called, the young man opened his bathroom door and stepped out, looking for the world as if he’d just arrived.   
  
Self preservation was a funny thing. As long as you kept your head above water – and with some extra galleons, the rest of your body too – all was well for the Malfoys. Watching the young man he still didn’t know the name of, he wondered what his father would think of his methods.  
  


The kitchen was empty as far as he could see. He didn’t come in here often but it was the only place that had a fireplace at the other end, was far away from his father and close to the east wing staircase. He often used it to sneak his friends in and out during summer months when he was still in school. He walked to the other end with his company following behind. He wondered where the house elves were, since the kitchen was completely empty but it was already seven in the morning. Then, he found out why.  
  
“Good morning, Luc,” he heard behind him. The lightly French-accented voice made him freeze. He could see the knowing smile with his back turned. He spun around slowly and looked over his escort’s shoulder, who he noticed had also turned at the voice. He walked around him and stood between them both.  
  
“Good morning, Mother,” he said and helped her with her handful as she walked out of the pantry, followed by a group of house elves.  
  
Sabine Duval had married Abraxas at twenty, her parents very happy to give away their free spirited daughter to a man who had little to no spirit at all. Their years of marriage had done nothing to temper her easy going ways, nor her openly expressed love for her two favourite men. She wore a thin silk dressing robe over her nightgown. She’d just recently woken up, her eyes a little laced with sleep and her wavy blonde hair undone, hanging loose around her shoulders. She eyed her son carefully and then the man behind him. Tired she may have been, but she was not blind. “You are having visitors? This early? England has barely awoken, Luc.” She rested her hip against the counter as the elves busied themselves with her breakfast. She gave him a cheeky grin. “Or is he now leaving?” She swept her long blonde hair over her shoulder and placed her hand on her hip.  
  
“And that is my cue to leave,” said the man behind him. Lucius half turned and had to lean back when the young man reached forward with his hand. “It was lovely meeting you, Mrs Malfoy.”  
  
Sabine looked down at his hand and then up to her son. “I do not know where you hands have been, young man.”  
  
He smiled and Lucius dreaded what would come out of his mouth. “Oh, believe me, you’ve touched them all before.”  
  
Sabine’s eyes widened scandalously before a broad grin lit up her face. She took his hand and once more looked up at her son. “I  _like_  him.” She gave him a cheeky smile. “Please, call me Sabine.”  
  
“Mother,” Lucius inserted, ready for the man to leave now.   
  
“And you are?” she continued as if she didn’t hear him.  
  
The brunet smiled again. “I am not important. It was lovely to meet you, Sabine.” He gave Lucius a nod, let go of Sabine’s hand and walked to the fireplace. In a flash of green flame and a token, “The Leaky Cauldron,” he was gone. A feeling similar to that upstairs overcame Lucius as soon as the brunet disappeared. He could feel his shoulders fall without his permission.  
  
“Oh my goodness.”  
  
Lucius turned to his mother, his eyes narrowed, but she simply stared at him with her hand over her chest. A plated breakfast and cup of coffee sat next to each of them where they rested. There wasn’t an elf in sight. “That was not funny.”  
  
She was relentless in her laughter and gave him a playful push on his shoulder. He hardly felt it. She was such a small thing, his mother, but delightful nonetheless. He hoped to find someone like her one day. She made herself comfortable, knowing her son well enough to know that if she let this be, she would never be able to bring it up again and this was not a conversation for outside of the room. “Oh, don’t be that way. You’re like your father, no sense of humour.” She took a sip of her coffee. “Does he live at that pub?” she asked innocently, her light eyes wide.  
  
He rolled his eyes. “You are impossible, Mother.” He picked up his own cup of coffee and inhaled it deeply before he drank.  
  
She gave him a cheeky grin and cupped his face with her hands. “And you are very much my son.” She laughed her light tinkling laughter, which made him smile, even if she was making fun of the situation.   
  
When she let go and moved on to her toast, he managed to ask, “Will you tell Father?”  
  
She stared at him, as if contemplating. “Your father. He is an uptight fellow, no?” She smiled at his expression. “He does not have the appropriate sense of humour we do to find this funny.” She shook her head making her decision. “No. I do not think I will share this joke with him. He would not get it.” She leaned forward, an eyebrow cocked. “I  _will_  ask where you found such a man. A fine specimen. Those eyes! My goodness.” She took another sip of coffee as if to steady herself and placed a hand on his left forearm. “You must tell me, are they real?”

As Remus crossed the boundary of The Leaky Cauldron into Diagon Alley, he breathed out a sigh and wandered up the Alley towards Ambrosia cafe. It was one of the few places open at this time of the day.  _Tea. I need tea._  Nearly every ‘morning after’, he came to this cafe for their tea. He didn’t know what they put into it, but it soothed him in ways he couldn’t describe. Walking in, he greeted Heather Fairweather behind the counter and asked for his usual: a cup of Earl Grey and a strawberry jam scone with clotted cream. She smiled at him as she went to round up his order. Remus waited at the counter. Leaning forward, he put his head in his palm and looked around. The cafe was empty so far. Usually the only folk who would come in at this time would be other store owners – out to get some breakfast before they opened, and people like him who worked his hours. But it was Tuesday and, for some reason, there was always bad business on a Monday night. He'd almost been ready to go home, but Malfoy had turned up out of the blue and he knew what to expect from him at least. He’d initially been a 'birthday present' to the blond. Lestrange did that often to the Alleywalkers on Knockturn. Remus had made sure to ask Lestrange who he was a present for. He'd heard the stories and would never go to his brother. Never.  
  
He couldn’t wait to get home and change, but first.... He sat at his usual table and took his first sip.  _Oh, yes_. He practically melted into the seat. Shutting his eyes, he finally allowed himself to relax, since he’d woken up earlier to Lucius Malfoy watching him sleep.  _Strange man_.  
  
The other chair at his table scraping against the floor made him jump. He opened his eyes to see Sirius sitting down opposite him. He stared and Sirius stared back. He pinched himself and then stared some more. He wasn't hallucinating. “You’re awake.”  
  
Sirius grinned. “I am.”  
  
Remus narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “You’re awake and outside. Why?”  
  
Sirius mimicked him. “Why are you?”  
  
Remus sat up straight. “That’s none of your business, Padfoot.”  
  
Sirius spread his arms wide, giving him a devastating smile. “Then I invoke the ancient code of ditto.”  
  
Sirius had always been a good looking man. In school he was the token bad boy. The girls swooned, the boys envied and he’d chosen Remus as his friend out of all the people he could have befriended in his stead. It was a good thing he’d never been in love with the guy. That would have been a disaster in the making. He was a good friend, though, if a bit pretentious. Sirius stole a bit of the clotted cream from his scone. That stuff was expensive, Remus batted his hand away. “We went out last night,” Sirius said after stuffing his finger in his mouth to lick off the cream. “I fire-called your house, but your mum said you were out.” Remus had left him late Monday afternoon to 'go home', when he’d really ‘gone to work’. He still felt a little dirty after standing on Knockturn for so long. “...by the end of the night I was far too sloshed to apparate home, so I woke up at The Cauldron.” Remus realised he’d just missed a large portion of what Sirius had said. “I was coming downstairs when I saw you come out the floo. I called you, but you didn’t hear me." He shrugged. "So I followed you here after I settled my bill and had a good healthy dose of  _Anti-Veisalgia_ , of course.”  
  
Remus nodded belatedly. “Of course.” Sirius ducked his hand down to steal an entire scone this time. “Hey! No touching, mine.” Remus glared and pulled his plate closer.  
  
Sirius tsked, as if Remus had just spoiled his fun. “Alright,” he said stroppily and turned with a bright smile. “Heather! Sweetheart! I’m starving!” He held his stomach, miming stomach pains that only the truly famished could feel.  
  
Heather rolled her eyes, but smiled fondly at him anyway. “I’ll be right there, Sirius.” Remus simply rolled his eyes. Sirius was still staring at her. When Remus looked over, she was bending over to get a roll off the bottom shelf.  
  
Remus sighed, frustrated. “Leave her alone, Sirius.” He took a bite of his scone.  _Mmm, heavenly._  
  
“Shh,” Sirius sounded, cutting him off. He put up a finger to silence him, in case his single syllable didn’t do the job. He continued to stare. “I’m taking in her assets.” With his other hand, he tapped his temple. “Storing them in my wank bank.”  
  
Remus coughed, his tea going down the wrong hole. “I’m sorry, your  _what_?” he asked. It was such an unexpected thing to say, he didn’t even swallow his piece of scone before he spoke. Sirius, apparently done with his ‘deposit’, shook his head for Remus to disregard it and finally stole a scone. “You missed a big night last night, Moony. We may not forgive you.” The Black rebel ignored Remus’ glare. “Even Peter was there and you know how scarce he is these days.” Shaking his head at Sirius’ antics, Remus let it go and nodded absently. Peter had been disappearing a lot these days. “James finally did it and proposed to Lily.”  
  
His amber eyes snapped to Sirius. “What?” Sirius finished the last of his stolen scone.  
  
“I didn’t say that to get a reaction. It’s true. He just blurted it out as she sat down next to him.” Heather brought him over his roll with scrambled eggs and a large mug of tea. He too had a ‘usual’, since Remus had first brought him there. “He had the ring and everything, but I don’t think he planned it for right then.” He took a bite of his breakfast sandwich and put up a hand to cover his mouth. “The ring was gorgeous, though.”  
  
Remus looked out the window to the slowly filling Alley outside. He’d helped James pick the ring. It was so strange, walking into a jewellery shop and knowing money wasn’t an option. Remus had to be careful; it was a heady experience he’d love to repeat. In the end, the idiot had settled on his family rings. All that work for nothing. How horrible to be there when he chose it, but not when he used it. Their night sounded like a good time. His mind went to his own night and he cocked his head in thought, almost shamed when his mind pointed out that his night may just have been better. “Did she say yes?” Sirius gave him a look. Remus nodded. Of course she did, it was Lily.  
  
Sirius washed down his bite with a gulp of tea. “I’m going over to his place after. You wanna come with?”  
  
Remus frowned at Sirius’ words. First ‘wank bank’ and now this? “You’ve been dating muggles again, haven’t you?” He always took on some of their language when he did. Sirius shrugged and gave him a lewd grin. Remus shook his head fondly at his friend. “Yeah, sure,” he answered and let his gaze wander to the window.  
  
Sirius dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. He frowned. “You okay?” he asked.  
  
Remus tilted his head. Was he? “Yeah, of course,” he answered anyway and put down his cup.  
  
Sirius’ eyes bore into him. Idiot and bad boy to the masses he could be, but he was still a Black, no matter how the salt shook. His eyes narrowed. “You don’t look it.”  
  
“I don’t? Must not have got a lot of sleep.” He hadn’t, either. Malfoy, apparently, had a lot of stamina. If he’d known what he was getting himself into when that Rabastan Lestrange had come up to him, he may have turned him down.  _But_ , he thought to himself as he felt the weight of the bag in his pocket.  _I need the money_.  
  
“Is that all you’re eating for breakfast,” Sirius’ said, interrupting his thoughts. He shook his head at Remus. “No way. Heather, my lovely!” Sirius got up and went to the counter, heedless of Remus’ calls. He shook his head. Sirius was very giving, even if his friends weren’t the receiving type. Since he’d been given his inheritance by his Uncle Alphard, he’d spoiled the lot of them when he could, especially Remus, since he rarely had anything to his name. One day, Sirius’ character would get him in trouble.

Abraxas Malfoy was truly a sound businessman. Lucius would often watch him in awe when he was a teenager. It amazed him that his father could command these men's attention so readily, so easily and get most, if not all, of what he set out to receive in a deal. He had seen it happen so many times and that was both a blessing and a curse. He’d learned the best ways to approach a business deal from Abraxas; what to mention, what not to mention, and what to keep to himself until there was no other choice. Abraxas was good at what he did, Lucius would never question it, and was continuously grateful of his business prowess because, without it, Lucius would stand to inherit next to nothing, especially with his mother’s spending habits. He watched a piercing set of dark brown eyes rise from the parchment to lock with the goblin across from him. “What about the Brenhach accounts, the investments I made last quarter, are there any returns?”   
  
On the other hand, Lucius had seen these meetings so many times.  
  
Boredom was now a constant state of being. He was not truly required to be there, but his father made him come to each one to gain the maximum of experience. He often said,  _‘No two meetings are the same. At any time, it could go to Azkaban.’_  But Lucius had never seen such a meeting and, with his father’s reputation, it wasn’t likely he would. It had been the same last month, though his mind had been preoccupied then by the man he’d had to secret out of the manor. It had certainly kept his mind entertained then. However, if he wasn’t with his father, he would, most likely, be dragged out shopping with his mother. That fate was something just as bad, if not worse.  
  
The Malfoy vaults were handled by Gornuk, one of the Gringotts goblins. He sat in what Lucius could only describe as an ornate ‘high chair’. Abraxas often told him that goblins were frightfully imperious and hated being seen as inferior in any way. Lucius thought of the high chair, the high counters in the Main Hall, the great secrecy of the vaults below ground, to the fact that Gringotts towered over all the other shops in Diagon Alley. Overcompensation if he ever saw it. The goblin sat behind the desk, while he and Mr Leopold Cretach, the family solicitor, flanked his father on the opposite side. Mr Cretach, of  _Cretach, Bondle and Associates_  had been their family solicitor for years, since his grandfather, Quintus Malfoy, helped him establish the firm. The meeting had started mid-morning and, due to the sheer amount of investments and vaults in the Malfoy name, the meeting had gone straight past lunch. Lucius wanted to tear out his eyes, he was so bored. For the first time he was glad for Mr Cretach, when the elderly man pulled his vintage pocket-watch out and read the time.  
  
“What say we revisit this after a spot of tea?” It was testament to how long the meeting was when even Gornuk seemed relieved.  
  
Lucius stepped out past the burnished bronze doors of the building into the busy melee of Diagon Alley, ignoring the two guards in their scarlet and gold uniforms. The polished and ornate white steps of Gringotts Bank looked severely out of place among the less opulent streets and shops below. Certainly, that was the point of such a display.   
  
He rolled his eyes internally. Overcompensation was underestimating their severe  _complex_.   
  
He took in a deep breath of air and looked up to see the waxing gibbous moon in the afternoon sky. It was a clean, crisp white in a sea of blue. Disregarding it, he followed his father through the busy street. It was a Monday and the Alley was busy with people on their day to day duties. He wondered which part of the world his mother was shopping in, reminded of her when he caught sight of a blonde woman being followed by her house elves carrying her purchases. She usually brought things home for him to try, including sets of ribbons that always made him roll his eyes. Now that he was being forced to leave it alone instead of cut it, his hair had been growing, in Lucius’ opinion, at an alarming rate. It brushed his shoulders now and Lucius hated feeling like there was always something there touching him. He could often be seen brushing his neck, only to realise it was just hair. She was impossible when it came to him doing as he was told. She hated arguments in the house, especially between her two best men. Lucius sighed to himself and glanced into the shop windows as he and his father made their way to a cafe. He was absently listening to a point his father was making about blood purity, something he’d begun to discuss on and off for a while now, when he heard it.  
  
“I said no!” That voice. Even after a month’s time, he’d recognise it anywhere.  
  
“ _Come on_ , Moony. I’m sure we can get her to say yes if you come along.”  
  
“Yeah, Remus, please! She actually likes you.”  
  
In front of the cafe they were heading toward, next to the group of outdoor tables, stood four men, one of which Lucius knew intimately. “Probably because, out of the lot of us, she can actually trust me not to let you drink yourselves into a stupor, and then wake up in Goa surrounded by nameless fluids and a pet goat, with no recollection of how you got there.” Lucius slowed down to look inside a shop window, not particularly noticing what was there, but really just wanting to eavesdrop.  
  
His father’s deep voice made him realise he hadn’t been listening to him for a while. “You and your books. It’s nice to see your quest for knowledge hasn’t lessened,” he said with – if Lucius wasn’t mistaken – a touch of fondness. “Your mother would have been a Ravenclaw, you know, if she hadn’t gone to Beauxbatons.” He stood straight. “Still, a very upstanding house.”  
  
Lucius knew what he was supposed to say. “Not as grand as Slytherin, though. It was the only place for me, for a Malfoy.” The look of tempered pride made him glow warm inside, even though he’d just turned twenty-four and shouldn’t need his father’s praise to feel good about himself anymore. Old habits die hard, though. He turned slightly to see the familiar head of auburn hair. He was facing three men. One was tall with black hair and a pair of glasses, another looked shorter and a little portly. The last one, also with black hair, had a mischievous outlook to him. He looked familiar, but Lucius was too busy focusing on the man with his back to him.  _His name is Remus_. He obviously had his arms crossed, and enjoyed making the group of men beg. All three of them had their hands clasped, as if in prayer. Lucius cocked an eyebrow at the display. “And what on God’s green earth makes you think I’m going to go along with you? Though seeing you all make fools of yourselves would be pleasing.”  
  
“Remus Lupin,” the dark mischievous one said. “It’s James’ bachelor party! It’s a mark of honour for any man!” he said with conviction.  
  
“Idiots, more like,” Remus said as he walked inside the cafe.  
  
The three stood outside with their mouths hanging open before the one with glasses, James, exclaimed, “Remus, come on! I’m actually begging here.”  
  
The mischievous one held on to his arm and put up a hand to placate him. “Leave this to me.” He left them outside and walked in after his friend.  
  
With Remus gone and the other two looking in through the window, Lucius tuned out their antics and back in to his father, who was still talking about blood purity. He gestured for them to continue and his father took the lead to walk up to the cafe and inside. The scent of rich coffee beans filled his nostrils. As an Englishman, he was not supposed to survive unless he had a cup of tea, but truly, he couldn’t live without coffee. It must be the Frenchman in him from his mother’s side. They sat near a window and Lucius went to order their late lunch.  
  
He stood in line behind Remus as he was talked at by the dark haired man. He’d apparently taken on the task of getting Remus on board to plan a bachelor’s party against the fiancée's wishes. Lucius rolled his eyes at the attempt. No man should have to convince their fiancée to let him do what he wanted. In the words of his father, 'It's always easier to say sorry than ask permission'. His mother never really got a sorry after his father did something stupid, since Abraxas felt that saying sorry was a sign of weakness.   
  
As the wife of a Malfoy, she made sure he  _felt_  sorry, though.  
  
The two other men walked in behind him, the bell over the door jingling. The portly one stayed there while the other walked up to the line where Remus was ordering. “James, if you want to have  _any_  kind of clout with your  _wife_  in the future, I suggest you grow a pair of bollocks now while you can.” Remus crossed his arms again and turned to face him, his eyes angry. He caught sight of Lucius and paused a second before he continued, if a little distracted. “It was bad enough watching you trip over yourself to impress her. It’s going to be something else to watch you bumble your way through a marriage that you have, apparently, no control over whatsoever.” He collected his tea and eclair. “I’m going home. Let me know if you get to have your party, I’d be honoured to attend.” His eyes strayed to Lucius as he left, the two remaining men watching him go and coming out of the line as the bell above the door jingled again.  
  
Lucius walked up to the counter and placed a lunch order for two. James stood to the side of him, paying him no attention, but stared in shock at the door. Lupin had obviously never spoken to them like that before. “What’s wrong with him?”  
  
His friend stopped him and shook his head. He sighed like any attempt would be foolish. “It’s his time of the month, James, you know how he gets. We’ll try again next week. Moony! Wait up!” he called fruitlessly, as the man was no longer there. They all walked out, presumably to chase after the angry Remus Lupin.  
  
 _Remus Lupin_. He finally had a name. It did make him wonder, though.  
  
 _Time of the month?_

_ _

Lucius stared out of the window despondently. He refrained from resting his head against the glass that overlooked the length of Diagon Alley. Who knew how many people had done that already, and with the state of the rest of The Leaky Cauldron, it wasn’t likely the windows had ever been cleaned. It was the last meeting of the day and it was raining outside, the perfect match to his mood. His father sat on one of the chairs next to the fire with Mr Cretach. There were various folios spread on the table before them. Each sheet held a name, face, credentials and history. Any one of the women on the table could be the future Mrs Malfoy. He looked at the sheet of parchment in his hand. It was the first one his father had handed him.  _Bellatrix Black_. Oldest daughter of Druella Rosier and Cygnus Black. He frowned. He remembered her, she was older than him. When she was taking her NEWTs he was in fourth year and he would  _always_  remember the look on her face before she went into exams – like she was ready to murder the examiners if they didn’t hand out the right questions for her to answer correctly. Lucius tried to picture that personality as his future wife. 

  
 _No_.  
  
In her picture, she looked a little... off. There was no smile. The intense look on her face told him she took picture taking  _very_  seriously. Thing is, he knew for a fact that Rudolphus, Rabastan’s older brother, had a crush on her in school. He’d mentioned plans to ask her to marry him. As far as Lucius was concerned, Rudy could have her. He glanced across the room to the discussion his father was having with Leopold Cretach. They were all in a secure room upstairs in The Leaky Cauldron. Lucius would do anything to be out of it. The meeting had been going on for three hours as they went through potentials; reviewing their accounts, ages, compatibility, airs and training.  
  
Bellatrix’s picture glared at him now, probably sensing his unwillingness. He was tired and perhaps a little cranky. The weight of the future of the family on his shoulders didn’t help. He was only twenty-four. Wizards lived for over a century. What was the rush? He glanced up, feeling eyes on him and wasn’t surprised to see his father was watching him. He turned away, not wanting him to see the indecision on his face. Abraxas got up and walked over to him, the brandy in his hand sloshing in the glass. Lucius was surprised when he handed it to him. It was not often that he shared.  
  
“You look a tad pale, Luc.” Lucius started at the name his mother often called him. He’d never heard it from his father before. He took a sip of the brandy in his hand. The burn of it was welcomed as it slid down his throat. Abraxas sighed. “Son, would you like to take a break? You look like you’re about to pull out your hair.” He gestured for him to sit down.  
  
Lucius sat on the cushion of the window seat, turning slightly so he could still look outside. “It’s so much responsibility.” He looked up at his father. “How did you do it?” He shook his head. “This is the future of our family.” He held up the strictly intense folio of Bellatrix for his father to see and noticed how Abraxas frowned at the look on her face. “What if what’s on parchment isn’t at all what’s in front of me at the altar? What if I make the wrong decision? Not everyone can choose like you and get someone like mother.”  
  
Abraxas sat on the opposite corner. “You sound like me.” Lucius looked up. “I got very lucky with your mother, Lucius. Believe me or not, your father is not always the strong-headed man you see before you. I’ve had doubts in my time, and I’ve made a few mistakes. I learned from them and keep those lessons with me to this day. It’s called experience and growing up. This is just another milestone in your life and if you have doubts, it’s natural. It’s what I am here for, to help you decide. After all, it’s my family too.” He cocked his head to the side in satisfaction when Lucius gave him an amused chuckle. He took the sheet of parchment and held it. “Mark my words, though. If I hadn’t chosen your mother, she would have chosen me anyway. One meeting and her decision was made. Her parents may have wanted her gone, but she wanted to go twice as much. I didn’t have a choice. Luckily, she was the one. It wasn’t love at first sight, but I’m more open to it now than I was back then.”  
  
Lucius nodded absently and turned again to the busy Alley below. He paused a moment when he saw the familiar figure of Remus Lupin walking up the Alley towards The Cauldron. He chanced a quick glance to his father to see if he’d noticed the focus of his attention. Luckily, he’d been talking to Leopold. “I just – I think I need some time to...” He turned back to the window to see Remus disappearing into Flourish and Blott’s. Perfect.  
  
His father sighed and held up the folio in his hand. “Alright. We’ll finish this another time.” He stared gravely at Lucius then. “But we will finish it, am I clear?” Lucius understood. Doubts were one thing, but deliberately postponing something so important was unheard of. If Lucius didn’t make the decision, Abraxas would make it for him.  
  
He nodded. “Crystal, sir.”  
  
His father stood and turned to him. “This business is important, Lucius. Like you said, it’s the family’s future.” Still staring, he sighed. A slight chuckle escaped him, as if Lucius both exasperated and amused him in equal parts. “Go on with you then. I’ll see you at home.”  
  
Lucius picked up his cloak and flung it over his shoulders as he exited the rented room. He walked quickly down the steps and out the back, using his wand to quickly tap the bricked entrance of Diagon Alley. Before the bricks could fully form the archway, he was through it, manoeuvring around and through the crowd to duck into the bookstore. He walked the length of the store, but only found his quarry when he went upstairs. The last aisles were deserted. Remus was in the last one, his legs crossed on the ground with his back to the shelf. He was reading.   
  
Lucius realised two things. He realised he was panting a little from his dash through the crowd and turned to get to the next aisle, embarrassed. Now that he could see him, he had no idea why he’d chased him down.  
  
When his breathing had evened out, he turned once again onto the aisle Remus was sitting in. He was in muggle clothing under his open robe. Lucius could tell because the young man looked very strange. The woollen jumper he wore was cabled and cream coloured. The trousers were a dark blue and wide at the bottom, but tight at the top. It was an odd material Lucius could not place. They looked uncomfortable. He cocked his head to the side to see the title of the book. He frowned and looked up at the sign at the beginning of the aisle. ‘ _Fantastic Beasts_ ’ it said. The book in his hands was a literature book. He looked to be three quarters into it. How odd, considering the time it had taken Lucius to get there, there was no way he’d been able to read that far. Lucius cleared his throat.  
  
Remus jumped. Lucius felt himself pinned by the strange colour of the young man’s eyes, much like he had a month ago when he’d apparated outside of the manor wards. They gave him a look of curiosity and confusion. “Mr Malfoy?”  
  
Lucius frowned, feeling at odds with that response, until he realised why. “Don’t call me that.” It made him think of his father. Often people would expect Abraxas when told Mr Malfoy would be attending. He could see the carefully hidden looks of disappointment when he showed up instead. It was part and parcel, he’d got used to it by now. But not here.  
  
Remus closed his book, marking his place with his finger. “What should I call you?” He hadn’t said much of anything the last time. Not knowing full names probably lessened the risk of calling out the wrong one at an inopportune time.  
  
“I went by Malfoy in school, but that was six years ago. My name is Lucius.” He was rambling. How odd. He waited for Remus to stand. Curiously, Remus nodded to him and walked away. Lucius stared after him, perplexed, and followed. The young man walked down the stairs and turned right to the literature section and walked the aisles with the air of familiar practice. Next to a glass cabinet, he placed the book on the shelf. Disregarding it, Lucius asked, “Are you free this evening?”   
  
“I’m never free.” The resentful tone brought Lucius up short, but he disregarded that too, it wasn’t his business or his pleasure to discover the inner workings of a prostitute’s mind. Remus, seeing Lucius roll his eyes in the glass case, amended his statement. “Not this week. I’m busy this week.” Remus began to walk again.  
  
The dismissal stung, but Lucius gritted his teeth and ignored it. “I’ll pay you double what you’re charging them.”  
  
Out on the Alley, Lucius quickly erected a weather-shield charm. Remus soon followed suit and turned to face him. It suddenly occurred to Lucius that he’d just followed this man out into the rain without thinking. Amber eyes that Lucius remembered vividly stared at him, irritated. “For a Malfoy, I’m guessing rejections are a foreign concept, but try to keep up. I have commitments this week. Choose another time.” He looked very angry, the complete opposite to the man who could not be riled by anything Lucius said a month ago.  
  
Lucius suddenly understood what the man with glasses, James, had felt at the face of wrath from such an unexpected source. It sounded just like a woman’s time of the month. Perhaps the dark-haired man was right. He eyed Remus warily. He’d seen the man naked. There was no doubt he was a man. Relenting, he offered, “Next week.”  
  
Remus nodded curtly. “I’ll pencil you in.” The turn of phrase was obviously foreign to the blond and Remus rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m free. Owl me. My name is Remus Lupin.” He walked away and, this time, Lucius let him go.  
  
 _I know_.  
  


The Muggle world was very distinguishable from the everyday sights Lucius saw when he went out. It was like viewing photographs of towns and recognising that what you could see was not native to your country or community. Radcliffe on Trent was as foreign as a wizard could get when thinking of places outside of his usual haunts. Though Lucius could see houses, shops, parks, schools; the place  _looked_  different. Alien.

He couldn’t believe he was there. Four days ago, Lupin had agreed to meet with him this week. In that time, Lucius had employed several methods to his advantage.  
  
He glanced down one more time to the parchment given to him by his house elf in Wiltshire and then up at the front of the house he’d apparated to. “24a Lorne Grove,” he said to himself, as he checked the number on the door. He was in the correct place. There was a black, muggle automobile in front of the house. As he walked past it, he read the word  _PACER_  on the back. He passed it without comment, the words meant nothing to him anyway. Lucius paused at the front door and composed himself. Looking around, he took off the disillusionment charm he’d put on and knocked on the front door. He surveyed the door closer. It was an odd material. Hard, but not the typical wood.  _How strange_.  
  
The door opened and a rather pretty woman answered. She was made-up and obviously on her way out. “Oh, hello,” she said politely as if she hadn’t heard the door and found it surprising there was someone there. Lucius bowed his head in reply and said good-afternoon. She looked at Lucius closely, blushing, and took in his attire. Lucius knew he had the right house when she disregarded his attire, which must have looked strange to a muggle (Merlin knew, Lucius found theirs extremely so) and turned into the house as she held the door open. “Remy, sweetheart, you have a friend at the door.” When there was no answer, she leaned further into the house to call louder. “Are you coming down?”  
  
“Yeah,” came a rather bored voice. Nevertheless, Lucius recognised it immediately.  
  
The woman smiled at thin air and at Lucius. “I’m off then,” she called. “I’ll be back later. Your lunch is in the fridge, alright?”  
  
The stairs started to rumble as someone came down. “Okay, mum.”   
  
Obviously ‘Remy’ was close because the woman’s smile got wider and she let go of the door to take a step inside. Remus paused when he saw Lucius standing there. “Bye darling,” Remus hardly responded to the kiss on his cheek. Lucius was once again faced with her radiant smile and bright amber eyes. “It was nice to meet you, young man. Those other friends of his drive me barmy, they do.” She rolled her eyes at a joke that Lucius, apparently, was supposed to understand. He couldn’t help it, he nodded in understanding. He’d seen the ‘friends’ Lupin had at Diagon Alley. He wasn’t particularly fond of them either.  
  
He was watching Lupin’s mother move the  _PACER_  automobile, when he heard, “How did you know where I live?” behind him.  
  
Lucius turned back to the young man in the doorway. Simple Muggle clothes adorned his frame - a yellow T shirt and ‘sweatpants’. Lucius always found that term somewhat disgusting. They did not look bad on Lupin, though, even if they did pool a little at his feet with the man’s medium height. Lucius understood his predicament, as he often had to hem the length of trousers he bought, but, that’s what  _tailors_  were for. “I have my ways,” he said after his perusal.  
  
Remus, however, snorted. Sirius often said the same thing. He knew what ‘ways’ Malfoy had. “You have your  _money_ , that’s not a way, that’s just laziness.”   
  
Lucius cocked an eyebrow at the assumption. “Is there another way to find your... home?”  
  
Those bright eyes narrowed at him. “Owl?” Remus said obviously. “You could have asked me. My  _home_ ,” he said mimicking Lucius, “as you put it, is all I have, and I didn’t ask you to come here,” he added in response to Lucius’ superior tone. His parents worked hard to afford a place like this, his father especially. “If you don’t want to be here, leave.” Silence followed his outburst. “So what did you want?” He needn’t have asked. The look in Lucius’ eyes when he did ask, answered it for him. He scoffed. “Well you’re not getting it under my parents’ roof.” It may well be the seventies, but his parents weren’t all for freeing love and being open. Mind coming off his parents, he finally realised Lucius was standing on his doorstep in full Wizard robes. Not casual ones either. They looked... formal. “Why are you all dressed up?” he asked curiously. He couldn’t help it. He’d always been that way. Sirius always tried to exorcise the Ravenclaw in him during school. It never worked though.  
  
Lucius looked down, as if now realising what he was wearing. “I had a meeting with my father this morning. I have another one after lunch,” he added with – if it were possible – even less enthusiasm than before. “I want your company this afternoon, after my meeting.” The subject was not a joyous one, and he had a sense of dread within him, like he had felt last week. He had a feeling he’d need the company. He remembered watching Remus sleep that third morning after, how the deep breathing and total Hufflepuff trust he’d seen had actually calmed him, somewhat. He’d been unable to feel that way since. He wanted it back.  
  
The demanding tone didn’t escape Remus’ notice. “Did you now?” he asked with his arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe. “And an owl couldn’t tell me this?” Remus’ brow furrowed at the expression on Lucius’ face. “What’s the meeting about?”  
  
It seemed Lucius realised he was giving too much, away. When he finally looked at Remus, his eyes were hard once more. “The future of the family.”  
  
Remus understood immediately. Sirius had ‘meetings’ of that type once. He’d never attended them, unless he was supremely pissed off and needed some cheering up. His mum had blasted his name off the family tree for his behaviour. Well, that and running away from home. “Suitors.”  
  
Despite Lucius’ clear objective to refrain from Remus seeing how he felt about the topic, Remus still saw his jaw tighten. “To put it succinctly.”  
  
He gave a pacifying smile. “There aren't many other ways, are there?”  
  
Lucius replied with a biting tone. “I have a few choice words to describe it.”  
  
Rolling his lips between his teeth, Remus managed to stop himself from laughing outright. “I’ll bet you do,” he said eventually. Lucius watched Remus’ right hand rise to push back the light brown hair that had escaped his hair tie. “I’m not free. I’m not even going to be here after three.”  
  
He focused again on the man’s face. He’d told him the opposite not four days ago. His jaw clenched. “I can escort you there.”  
  
Remus smiled with a mischievous look in his face. “I’m sure you can, but I’m going into the country.” Lucius didn’t look like that would be much of a problem, so Remus elaborated. “I won’t be back for at least two months.” He shrugged. “I’m finding myself.”  
  
What an odd thing to say. “You lost yourself?”  
  
Remus laughed. Lucius didn’t know it, but he’d said exactly the same thing when his mother had suggested it. “I live under their roof, I live by their rules.” He shook his head and those damn strands of hair escaped his ear again.   
  
Lucius resisted the urge to tuck them back for himself. “We’re not so different after all,” he said quietly. “You should be glad,” he added, louder. “Getting away from your family” he explained.  _I would love the chance_.  
  
Remus narrowed his eyes. The amber irises still caught the light of mid morning. Lucius couldn’t help but stare. “I have a feeling you’re expressing you own views instead of mine.”  
  
Those eyes were surprisingly astute. “Like I said, we’re not so different.”  
  
The pregnant silence that filled the space between them was rife with tension as they stared at each other. “Wait here.” Remus left him there and walked into the house, leaving the front door ajar. Lucius stood outside and looked around, taking in the neighbourhood he could see. The area looked surprisingly clean for mugglehood. He’d not seen one up close before. They always looked so busy, with everyone moving around all the time. This one looked very quiet and subdued. Lucius was surprised to admit he liked it. But only to himself. When the door re-opened fully, Lucius could tell that Lupin had taken out the hair band to tie it again, as it was all recaptured behind his head. “I’m going by my aunt’s in Edinstowe. After Saturday, she’ll be gone. If you can hold out.”  
  
“If?” The young man thought a lot of himself.  _Then again,_  Lucius thought to himself,  _look at where I am._  
  
Remus shrugged at him. He leaned forward suddenly to look up and down the street. “I wouldn’t apparate from here if I were you. We have nosey neighbours.” Getting back on topic, he added, “If you can’t handle it, I can give you some recommendations.”  
  
“No. No thank you.”  
  
Remus was surprised. “No? Not even a female?”  
  
Lucius remembered the lecture he’d got from Rabastan.  _The females tend to get clingy when you go back to them multiple times. Men understand the need to disappear._  Lucius had stared, pink faced, at his friend’s blatant knowledge of Knockturn’s finest, but he’d taken him at his word. He remembered the morning the man had met his mother. He’d said just enough to pique her interest but not nearly enough to give it all away. His mother simply thought he was a very good looking one night stand. He shook his head at Remus. The man was discreet, hid his activities well from all, even his friends, and seemed to be frank about what he expected. If he went with someone else now, he’d have to start from the beginning. He gestured behind the man. “I’ll use your floo, then.”  
  


Unfortunately, Lucius wasn’t able to meet him on Saturday, the first of every month was set aside for taking stock of the various properties owned by the Malfoy name. Houses, manors and estates didn’t keep themselves going. The elves and humans working there needed supplies to take care of everything when family members weren’t there. It took forever, but it was all necessary. Following that, he had to send out orders and letters of correspondence. Unlike before, he constructed and signed them for himself instead of his father. Now, instead of learning the language of business, he would have a hand in it and would allow the various companies and firms to get acquainted with his name. By the time he was able to send an owl to Lupin, he was frustrated beyond measure.  
  
The response he received simply set him off.  
  
“Dobby!” Dobby was probably the only competent house elf in the house. He’d been with the family for years already, even though, by elf standards, he was still quite young.   
  
“Master Lucius is calling on Dobby, sir?” He was also the only house elf that listened and called him by his name. Then again, the elf had practically raised him.   
  
He nodded. “The man you found for me, find him again.”  
  
All he’d been given was the area Remus had gone. The smart man had told him to owl first beforehand so he could give him the coordinates. Since he’d met him, this was the third time he’d turned him down. Lucius was paying for his company, he shouldn’t be turned down. That’s not how it worked.  
  
Dobby’s eyes widened, glancing outside and then back at his master. “Master Lucius wants me to find...  _Him_? Now?” The elf glanced back outside.  
  
Lucius looked up at the window of his father’s study. What the hell was the elf looking at? Dusk was approaching but there was a bright waxing gibbous in the sky. The full moon was tomorrow. Lucius looked back down at Dobby. He seemed genuinely upset. “Yes I do, Dobby. Are you questioning me? Must I have a talk with Father?”  
  
If anything, that only caused Dobby to get extra anxious. “No, Master Lucius, Dobby is finding him for you!” He disappeared instantly.   
  
Lucius got up and walked to the window to view the colour of dusk. In the east wing, he couldn’t see the sun setting, but the moon was bright and high in the sky. He was getting frustrated with these rejections. This would be the last time Remus turned him down. 

Remus ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He’d taken a cold shower earlier, the heat finally getting to him. Lucius’ owl had taken him by surprise earlier, the request wasn’t so unwanted either. He felt like he could jump out of his skin at anytime. His wolf was pacing inside, he could feel him. An evening in bed could have calmed him down. He shook his head. It was far too dangerous to think like that. Lucius Malfoy was a very influential man, even if he didn’t see himself that way yet. One word to his father, one word to  _anyone_  about him could have him ostracised even worse than he already was.  
  
“Remy?” He looked up at his aunt, Sarah Lupin. “I’m driving down into town for the festival. Are you sure you don’t want to come?”  
  
He knew she meant well, but right now, his wolf was likely to tear the head off any man, woman, or child that touched him. A large crowd was not a good idea. He shook his head and smiled, though it came out as more of a grimace. Her fingers tapped the wood of his bedroom door. He wanted to break them off. Shutting his eyes, he buried his head in his pillow. “Have fun, Aunt Sarah.”  
  
She sighed. “I’ll try, love, but I doubt I will without you.”  
  
He laughed. “You want to stay here with me right now?”  
  
She laughed herself. “Good point. I’ll see you later.”  
  
He smiled properly this time. “I won’t wait up.” He rolled his eyes at her waggling eyebrows and dropped his head back down to his pillow. He heard the front door shut and even heard her start up her car before driving away. He groaned. He was an absolute beast all day. He didn’t blame her for wanting to get away.  
  
Remus frowned. Someone was banging on the door.  _Did Aunt Sarah come back?_  He didn’t understand. If she forgot her key, she had her wand. He walked down the stairs quickly and opened the door.  
  
Freezing, Remus felt his blood run cold. The heat that had surrounded him all day was gone. “You turn me down at the same time every month. Why?”  
  
A very angry Lucius Malfoy was standing on his doorstep. He was able to look straight across at him. Remus looked down.  _No boots_. A low level of heat began to circle and stir in the pit of his stomach. His wolf was rising. Oh God. Why was this happening? “You keep track?” He was confused. That wasn’t what he was supposed to say. Why had he said that?  _Say, go away!_  “Why are you here?”  _What? No!_  
  
Lucius’ eyes were flinty. “I noticed a pattern. Why?” he said relentlessly, with more edge. He hadn’t really realised until Dobby had popped in again with the coordinates, his hands twisting and his eyes straying to the moon outside before he popped out again. Lucius had looked outside once more, wondering about it, until he’d realised that, at the same time a month earlier, he’d got the same response. The nineteenth. He didn’t know what was so significant. He would find out, though.  
  
Remus crossed his arms. “It’s my time off.”  
  
It didn't look like Lucius believed him. “You take time off?”  
  
Tough. “Wouldn’t you?” he said bitterly.  
  
Lucius cocked an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t know.”  
  
“Then don’t assume.”  
  
“How do you feel about paid leave?”  
  
The man just didn’t give up. Remus could feel his wolf snarling inside. “I politely decline.”  
  
Lucius narrowed his eyes. “Why?”  
  
Throwing his hands up in the air, Remus said, irritated, “Because I don’t want to.”  
  
Lucius narrowed his eyes at the younger man. “You work for me! The money-”  
  
A look of indignant disbelief crossed Remus’ face at Lucius’ words. “Fuck you! I don’t want your money.”  
  
“I believe your choice of career says otherwise,” Lucius replied silkily.  
  
Having enough, Remus decided it was time for Lucius to leave. “Don’t you have a fiancée to see about? Or is that what  _this_  is about?” He'd hit him hard, he could tell fro the way the blond straightened his stance.  
  
Then, inexplicably, he looked amused. “You’re trying to get rid of me.”   
  
“How astute of you. I’m glad you noticed.” Remus made to shut the door. Unable to cross the wards, Lucius had no choice but to let it close. “Go home, Lucius, you don’t need to be here.”   
  
Lucius was angry. He apparated back to the co ordinates Dobby had given him, standing behind a rather large bush – probably what Dobby had used to hide behind. He stood there seething, until he realised what he was doing. He would not beg. He was a Malfoy. Malfoy’s were sought after, not the other way around. The voice in his mind sounded suspiciously like his father. Raising his wand, Lucius prepared to apparate hearing the familiar crack and frowning when he realised he hadn’t moved. He looked down.  _No, I’m still here,_  he thought to himself. He peered around the bush, feeling curious and ridiculous at the same time. He saw the back of a dark-haired man and glared.  _Time off... of course_.  
  
The front door opened, and though Remus’ face was blocked, his arms were not as they wrapped themselves around the man in his doorway. When the man was accepted into the house, Lucius snarled, the squeeze of his apparition overcoming him before he had a chance to prepare for it.

Late afternoon the next day, once the meetings with his father were over, Lucius sat in the chair of his study staring out of his window at the manor gardens with a glass of brandy, telling himself that Malfoys did not feel jealous, or betrayed. They did  _not_  drink themselves into a stupor over prostitutes that would rather fuck everyone else but him. He told himself that, as he stood and picked up his cloak the second time – the first time he’d dropped it through numb fingers. He told himself that, even, while standing on the hill overlooking Sarah Lupin’s cottage. The sun was low and the breeze was a little biting, despite it being August. There was a group of people in a large vehicle outside calling and cheering for Sarah to hurry up. She ran outside waving to her nephew and got in, still waving as they drove away. Lucius’ eyes zeroed in on the young man waving at the front door. They positively slit when he saw a man walk out moments later, giving Remus a longer than needed hug and apparating away.  
  
In his inebriation, he saw red and knew he needed to say something immediately. Young, eighteen year old teenagers did not treat a Malfoy this way and get away with it. Not in his lifetime. He’d punish Dobby good and proper when he got home, too. The elf had given him the co ordinates of the large bush he’d been hiding behind to find Remus when Lucius had asked him. Stupid elf. In his current state, he’d conveniently forgotten he’d stood not a yard away from the front door just the night before.  
  
He walked a few steps, realised he couldn't walk straight anymore and apparated to the door.  _Should have thought of that before._  
  
Remus probably heard the apparition crack, because he came to the door smiling. “Did you leave something Pad...”  
  
Lucius leaned heavily on the stone doorframe. “No. I didn’t.”  
  
There was anger in Remus’ eyes when he saw him, and Lucius refused to admit to the negative effect that had on him.   
  
Remus glared at him. “You have to  _leave_.”  
  
Lucius laughed, his head hanging down for a moment. When he raised his head, he felt a little dizzy. “Do I?” he asked amused.  
  
Remus shut his eyes, irritated. He’d become irritated with this man often these past few days. He was glad he’d taken the Wolfsbane Potion that Sirius had presented him with the night before. He’d opted to stay over, since he had nowhere else to be and, honestly, he had managed to take Remus’ mind off the itching sensation under his skin, but he couldn’t stay for his change. Remus wouldn’t allow it. The month before, he’d run alone in the peace of the forest and he’d felt  _alive_. He didn’t understand it. The forest was completely devoid of anything remotely magical, but his wolf had adored the peace and the chance to run. The pacing it was doing inside was probably anxiety to be free and out there again. After years of being in the Shrieking Shack, Remus didn’t blame it.   
  
Thinking rationally, he took in Lucius inebriated state and shook his head. He would regret this, he knew it, but, he couldn’t let the blond apparate like that. He’d splinch himself for sure. He let Lucius in through the wards and led him into the kitchen to get to the only working floo his aunt had. Lucius was following, slowly, as he kept getting distracted by things, much like Sirius’ cousin Andromeda had when she’d accompanied him to Remus’ home in Radcliff on Trent. It was odd how wizards stared at muggle things, and a little funny too. His Aunt Sarah was a muggleborn like his father, so her home had a few muggle items. In the kitchen, she always said having to keep track of spells to chop, mince, and fry were too time consuming and tiresome. She preferred to do it herself. Right now, Lucius was staring at her blender. Remus didn’t laugh. Honestly. Lucius turned his head, glaring at him and straightened, before he noticed the empty phial on the counter.   
  
Remus hastened to explain before Lucius could ask questions. “I’ve been feeling a bit off-colour, this potion is the only thing that helps.”  
  
Lucius’ eyes were surveying him carefully, so out of sync with his current state, but they were observant. “You look pale.” He began undoing his robe and pushed it back off his shoulders.  
  
Remus had enough of this. “You look like you need to go home.”  
  
Lucius shook his head. His hair moved like water around his shoulders. Remus noticed it had got even longer since he’d last seen him. “I just came from home,” he pointed out. He dropped his robe on the table.  
  
The irritation was rising again, just like the moon outside. He could feel the pull in his bones and his wolf wanted to know what the hell was holding him back. As if on cue, the holdback gave him a shove. He landed against the wall, taken by surprise and became very angry. He longed for his wolf to be at peace. Lucius had to leave.  
  
“What does that mean?” he heard and tuned back into what Lucius was saying.  
  
“What?” It came out angry and Lucius looked at him as if he didn’t understand why he was so angry, but then the blond’s eyes returned to the wall beside him. Remus looked over his shoulder to the wall and froze all over again.  
  
His aunt, trying to be helpful and supportive, had gone and purchased a large 1978 calendar and stuck it up on the wall. There was a smaller one on the fridge, but she was trying to prove a point. Sirius had laughed when he’d seen it last night, but Remus had smiled. His aunt was great. Not so much right now, though, because Lucius was looking at it curiously and taking in the big title written in permanent ink.  _‘Remus’ Lunar Calendar of 1978’_  
  
“Lucius, get out.”  
  
The drunk man fastened his eyes on him, his blue eyes confused but clearing fast to be replaced with anger. “No.” He shoved him again. “You don’t get to turn me down. Not anymore.”  
  
Remus didn’t have time for this. His wolf wanted out and Remus’ eyes kept straying to the strip of moonlight on the table over his potion. When the blond leaned into him, inserting his knee between his legs he could feel his wolf react to him. He could feel a feral burst of energy snap at him, levelling his control. His wolf, though close to the surface, couldn’t break free, since he was still inside and out of the moon's rays, but its needs were still there and, as he hardened, they overwhelmed him. A growl escaped him, far too inhuman to not scare Lucius. The wizard backed up a step, but not far enough. “I told you to leave. You never listen.” He grabbed the blond and spun him around, roughly snatching at his arms and fastening them over his head.  
  
Lucius tried to move his legs, but they were stuck in place as well. There was a knee between them, spreading them. He was held in place by Remus’ body alone.  _How is he this strong?_  He could feel heat behind him. The man had said he was sick. Was this the potion's doing? Lucius struggled in Remus’ hands, but he was still unable to free himself. “You wanted to know why I turn you down every month, then here.” Remus pushed him harder into the wall next to the refrigerator. It hummed quietly next to him while heavy panting reigned in his other ear. Remus placed one of Lucius’ hands on the lunar calendar. There were childlike drawings all over it of dogs and stars and crescent moons. “Do you see?”   
  
Something was wrong with Remus’ voice. It was deeper, gruffer. Something was wrong here. “See what?” he asked softly, his voice – and certainly his whole being – not so drunk anymore.  
  
A huff escaped Remus through his nose. “You’re not a stupid man, Lucius.” Remus slammed his hand palm flat against the wall onto the glossy paper of the calendar again, amused when Lucius jumped. “Look.”  
  
So Lucius looked. The entire year had been marked with appointments. There were red circles in every month throughout the year, half circles two weeks before and after each one, outlined over the numbers in blue and green. A legend at the bottom was titled as, ‘Remy’s time of the month’, inside of a thin black-lined box. There was that phrase again. Was this some inside joke? Inside the legend box, three things were listed, the blue and green half circles and red full circles. Where the blue and green half circles were labelled as waxing and waning moons, in brackets the words cranky and depressed were written. The red full circles meant full moon. He checked again, no birthdays were outlined or any public holidays.  _Why would anyone make a calendar based solely around the moon._  In the calendar, June and July twentieth were circled in red. The nineteenth of those months Remus had turned him down.  _Because the next day was the full moon. Whose life revolves around a full moon_?  
  
“No,” he heard himself say before his mind even registered it. Remus slid a little to his left and Lucius felt the heat of his breath in his ear again, radiating through the hair that hung over it. In a very low voice, so close he could feel Remus’ lips move against his ear, Remus gave him a very amused howl that tapered into quiet, amused laughter.  
  
Like a switch in his mind, light shined on one of the red circles. The eighteenth of August. Tonight.  
  
 _Werewolf_.  
  
“No.” He shook his head in denial.  
  
Remus was nuzzling his ear. “Oh,  _yes_.”  
  
Lucius’ lungs refused to take in air. He felt lightheaded. “You’re a... Merlin. I’ve been...” He turned his face back into the wall and swallowed, resting his forehead against the wall and trying to breathe. “I think I’m going to be sick.”  
  
Remus’ frame behind him went rigid. It shook with tension and the iron grip on his wrists tightened minutely, but enough to make Lucius go completely still. “Lucius, I think you should go.” His voice was deep, the tone serious. Lucius hardly recognised it.  
  
But he did, very much, agree with his statement. “I’ve been... and you didn’t tell me.”  
  
A rough bark of a laugh startled him. “You really want to think about this? Now? With the way you’re reacting?”  
  
A hot and sharp burst of anger escaped Lucius, though he was till pinned to the wall. “My reaction is normal for a person who’s just discovered I’ve been  _fucking a dog_! You are the one who lied, who purposely hid this so that you could get paid.” The grip on his wrists relinquished and he pushed Remus back to spin around. “Don’t you dare lie to me and say you don’t want my money. My father always told me the only way a werewolf could make money was on its back. I didn’t know if I should believe him. It seemed plausible, since no one would want to hire a miscreant animal, but to sleep with one...” Lucius’ mouth opened, his expression taking on one of disgust. “I never thought I’d see it in live action, much less  _participate_.”  
  
The room was calm and silent, until Remus yelled something unintelligible and shoved Lucius into the wall much harder than Lucius had done to him. Breath escaping him, Lucius had little to no chance of escaping when the brunet forced him around and pinned him back in place to face the calendar. He could feel Remus’ hot breath in his ear. As Lucius struggled, Remus crossed his wrists to hold them in one hand, this time. With the other, he reached down and began fiddling with the fastenings of Lucius’ trousers. With his hand now inside, he grabbed Lucius’ cock and began to pull on it roughly. With it happening so quickly, Lucius was rooted to the spot and horrified at the treatment all at once. He couldn’t believe how strong the younger man had become. It was impossibly hard to move away or retaliate. Even worse was the fact that his body was responding. He shut his eyes tight and willed it away, even as his cock began to harden and continuously leak pre-come. As Remus angled his wrist, Lucius felt angry at how his hips moved involuntarily into his hand and back against the hard length he could feel through Remus’ boxers.  
  
The soft material was sliding against his skin and Lucius realised that with his thrusting, his trousers were falling. There was something cold, though, entering him and he couldn’t tell where it was coming from. It felt like drinking a cold drink in the summer and feeling the coolness of it in his stomach as it spread out. This time, however, the sensation was in his arse, accompanied by a finger. He struggled even harder now, but the iron grip Remus had on him prevented him from moving. Another finger joined the first and scissored to stretch him open. He shook his head, his forehead resting against the wall. The small amount of air before him was hot with his panting breaths.  
  
Lucius let out a silent cry when Remus entered him and another loud cry when he pushed forward more forcefully. It hurt. He couldn’t believe how much it hurt. Remus held himself there, growling in his ear and Lucius wondered how much of this was him and how much was the wolf that was obviously near the surface now. Remus’ free hand slid back around him, gripping hold of his cock once more and tugging on it. He waited so long to move, that by the time Remus began to thrust in and out, Lucius, involuntarily, began to thrust with him. He swallowed around a moan when a sudden sharp spike of pleasure ricocheted up his spine and spread as shockwaves through his body. They zigzagged their way through the now small, lulling waves of pain. He almost didn’t hear him when Remus began to speak to him. “I knew you were a Malfoy before, that any lifestyle other than your own was looked upon with nothing other than derision.” Another punishing thrust shoved him into the wall. He whimpered, the power of it jarred his hipbone again. He was sure to bruise. “But I didn’t know that you shared the same mindset of ignorant idiots, whose thoughts and ideals date back to the fifteenth century.” Remus held himself in place on the next thrust, pinning Lucius against the wall by his prostate. “Especially considering what you’ve been doing with this  _miscreant dog_  for the past few months.” The heady sensation of pleasure as he came blocked Lucius from uttering a word, though the groan he let escape said it all. Remus pulled back, his words sinking in. Lucius felt as ashamed of them as he was of his actions.   
  
“Well, let me tell you, Mr Malfoy,  _nothing_ -” The hard thrust in forced a gasp out of Lucius. The hand on his cock slowed, teasing him. He groaned as he felt it stiffening again “-you have said hasn’t already been said to me before by strangers, peers and even myself. I’ve been told that I should be put down, poisoned and even killed. I’ve been lied to, I’ve been set up and I nearly killed someone when I was in school.” The hand on his cock sped up, the over sensitised skin reacting to every slide and tug of Remus’ hand. His gasps became more frequent as the brunet consistently pounded into him. “You have  _no idea_  what I go through every day, you have no idea how I feel, or what I want.” With a punishing blow to his prostate, Lucius came a second time, his arse tightening and spasming around the cock buried deep inside him again. Lucius felt warmth fill his arse as Remus climaxed after a few more thrusts. He collapsed against the bound man's back, unable to hold himself up any longer.   
  
The only sound heard in the room for several minutes was heavy breathing, as the two men tried to catch their breath. The wall, so close to Lucius’ face felt slippery where he’d been breathing heavily, his nose feeling wet as he was pressed against it. “Now, get the hell out, or I will make you.” Remus pulled away, letting Lucius’ arms go. They fell heavily against his side.  
  
But Lucius couldn’t move. He tried and failed, falling against the kitchen table in the centre. His eyes rested on the collapsed potion bottle there. He swallowed around the lump in his throat.  _Wolfsbane._  He’d been so blind. So  _stupid_. Remus growled, grabbing him at the waist and pulling him toward the floo. He ignored Lucius’ shout to let him go, grabbed the pot of powder over the mantle and practically threw Lucius in with the white dust yelling out ‘Malfoy Manor’ as he did. As the green flames came up around him, Lucius could see the outline of Remus disappearing through the side door of the kitchen into the moonlight. A howl reached his ears as the kitchen in Edinstowe disappeared. 


	2. Chapter 2

His walls were more peach than cream. So many years he’d slept in here and he’d just realised that. It was smooth as well. His fingertips pressed against it and moved down slowly. It was like silk. Lucius had to stop staring at his walls. He’d been in his room for three days now with only Dobby popping in and out for company. His only correspondence was to Rabastan, who’d invited him away on a vacation with ‘the boys’, whatever that meant. He didn’t care. He’d said yes. His father must be livid by now. He’d sent an elf in earlier to tell him they had a meeting with Mr Cretach at one. Luckily his mother was there to keep him at bay, which was probably why only an elf had given him the message.  
  
He turned onto his back and sighed. His mind whirled with thoughts, all of them leading back to Lupin. He had to get out of his room or else he’d never get over this. He got up and wandered out into the corridor. Maybe he’d check in on his mother, Sabine loved the southern gardens and could often be found there. He crossed the corridor into the room across from his. It was usually where Rodulphus slept when he stayed overnight. Walking up to the window, he glanced outside to see the spread of greenery and flowers. The fountain in the centre of it all was wide and the blue tile was bright in the afternoon August sunlight. One of the groundskeepers was cleaning it out.  _Wait_. He squinted.  
  
 _Oh hell. That’s the ninth one this year._  
  
When he finally made it outside, it was even worse up close. “Is there a reason you keep staring at my mother, Philippe?” Philippe was the groundskeeper's son. He was a bit of a prat, but not worth the aggravation of reporting, even if the offense was ogling his mother. The boy stood there with a long handled net, pretending to scoop out non existent leaves. When he turned to Lucius, his eyes widened.  
  
The boy looked like he was about to wet himself. “No! No Mr Malfoy, sir. No.”  
  
He was still standing there with a net in his hand. Lucius tsked and crossed his arms. “I think the stables need cleaning, Philippe.”  
  
“Yes, sir, of course.” He nodded in respect and darted off. Lucius watched him go, shaking his head as he walked over to where his mother reclined in her bathing suit reading a book. He stood up next to her and waited.  
  
She raised her head and smiled. “Hello, dear.”  
  
He was not impressed. “Mother.”  
  
Her brow marred, but only a fraction. She always warned him about wrinkles. “What’s the matter, mon fils?” She looked genuinely worried about him and he almost bought it. Almost.  
  
He rolled his eyes. “If you could rein yourself in a little, so that we could keep, at least, some of the staff, it would be nice, Mother.”  
  
Her head angled down to return to her book. “What are you talking about, Luc?” Her innocent act was very good, for Abraxas perhaps, but it didn’t fly with his son.  
  
He took the book away. “I’m talking about the number of young men who father has had fired and otherwise disposed of.” He crossed his arms again. “The drool is lining the floors, Mother. The house elves can’t keep up.”  
  
She smirked. “Oh, you flatter me.”  
  
He sighed and covered his forehead with his hand. “Mother, I’m being serious.”  
  
She leaned forward, in a strop and snatched her book back. “Oh well  _fine_.” She sat back, mumbling, “Lady can’t even have a little fun in her own home.”  
  
He heard it anyway. “I doubt it’s even remotely fun for them when father finds out about it.” His father had spies in the house. They wore pillowcases and spoke in broken, backward English. It was amusing to see them peeking around doorways to make sure Mrs Sabine Malfoy behaved herself. She did it on purpose just to piss him off, Lucius knew it.  
  
“Oh, your father is full of fat air.”  
  
He rolled his eyes. “Hot air. The term is hot air. And no, he’s not.” She stared at the fountain, sullen. “Have you truly not noticed the amount of them that have gone missing from the house? I‘m sure some of them, if not let go legally, are at the bottom of the lake with a cement charm on their feet.” He gestured to the lake with his arm in a sweeping motion. He didn’t miss her smirk. His parents were so strange. He swore, if this had to do with their sex life, he was going to vomit.  
  
She winked at him. “No one tells them to look, darling.”  
  
His eyes shut. “No, Mother, but you could be a little considerate of their families when you lay out here like... that.” He’d been avoiding looking for too long.  
  
She slapped her hands against the arms of her reclining chair. “Oh, fine. I’ll go inside and sunbathe.” Sunbathing in England. If  _that_  wasn’t an oxymoron. Lucius rolled his eyes. “Take all the fun out of my day. Just like your father, the old fort.”  
  
Lucius decided not to correct that one. “Thank you.” He eyed her folding her towel up. When she lay back again, he gave up. It wasn’t worth it. “Have you seen Father? We’re supposed to have a meeting with Mr Cretach.” He checked his watch.   
  
She almost sat up. Almost. But she did open her eyes to stare at him, probably to make sure it was actually him. “You  _want_  to go to a meeting with your father? And here I thought crups could not swim.”  
  
“Fly, Mother, the saying is ‘when crups fly’.” They couldn’t swim either, but right now Lucius would do anything to get his mind off his usual distraction, even if it meant going to a mind numbing meeting with his father. It’s funny how things worked out sometimes. “Do you know where he is or not, Mother?”  
  
“He went out. Said he was meeting with a Lord, or something to that effect.”  
  
Lucius frowned and sat in the chair next to her, where she reclined in the English sun. “How does Father know a Lord?” he asked, confused beyond measure. “What’s he the Lord of?”  
  
“Oh, bien-aimé, that’s rude, don’t ask him that in person.” At his withering stare, she huffed. He knew she would have asked him that question herself. She was far too curious for her own good. It’s probably where he got it from. “I don’t have a clue, but he seemed excited to be meeting one. Said they have the same ideals and he’s thinking of joining his cause.” She shrugged. “I won’t deny him a hobby.”  
  
“Father joining a  _cause_?” Talk about oxymorons. “This is the same man who  _sold_  all my old toys and clothes to an  _orphanage_? That man?”  
  
She placed a placating hand on his arm. “Oh, Luc, leave him be. He hardly has any recreational time outside of those relentless meetings you both attend. Leave him, it will be fine. He should be home soon, perhaps you should go get ready. Aren’t you spending some time with your friends from school next week?” Lucius nodded. “Well, have fun.” She was so matter of fact about it, he actually believed he would.  
  
Rabastan’s latest protégé and semi-stalker, Evan Rosier, had cousins living in Europe and had invited Rabastan and his friends with him for a couple of weeks to unwind. Unwind from what, Lucius didn’t know, since none of them had jobs or careers after leaving school. Lucius knew he’d use the time wisely, though. He’d need the break from the monotony and the thoughts of...  _him_. It still astounded him that he hadn’t worked it out sooner. He vowed to forget it all and have a good time, perhaps learn how to ski, get drunk on a regular basis and, simply, get some rest from all the betrothal papers he was being hounded to sign. Narcissa Black was a nice girl and all, Lucius just needed a little freedom. Perhaps this would help.  
  
As long as he didn’t have to witness Rosier’s more than obvious hero worship. He had enough of him following them – namely Rabastan – around in school.

“Ow!” Remus cried as someone sat on him, waking him up. When he looked up, it was Sirius. The dark-haired man grinned at him. “Padfoot! What the hell?” Remus looked around the room. This wasn’t his aunt’s house. Apparently, he’d fallen asleep on James’ couch.

  
Sirius bounced. “Get up, we’re going out.”   
  
Remus frowned at him. “What are you eating?” Sirius opened his mouth but Remus turned away putting up his hand to ward him off. “Forget it, I don’t want to know.” He looked up at the clock. He had an appointment tonight. “I can’t, I’m busy.”  
  
Sirius finally got off him, sinking onto the coffee table James had decorated his new home with. Actually, he’d bought it because Lily said she always wanted a coffee table and, though he’d had no idea what she meant, he’d gone out into the muggle world and found one. “With what? You’re always busy come night, what the hell are you doing?”  
  
Remus was stuck for a second. “Nothing. I’m just tired and I want to go to bed. Besides, Aunt Sarah would be waiting up for me. I don’t want to worry her.”  
  
Sirius kneeled on the floor and rested his elbows on the chair by his head. “You  _just_  woke up.”  
  
Remus sat up and ran a hand over his face. “Correction, you just  _woke_  me up.” He stood. “Where’s James?” The living room was sparsely decorated, but that was expected since he’d just moved in.  
  
Sirius cocked his head in the direction of the living room entrance. “Kitchen.” He rose too and followed behind Remus into the entry hall of James’ new home in Godric’s Hollow. They’d thought it an excellent purchase. Then again, they were all Gryffindors so they were obviously biased.  
  
A hand touched his arm making him slow down. “Moony... Remus.” Remus turned at the serious tone in Sirius’ voice. He stared curiously. Sirius was never like this unless there was something truly important he had to say. “If there was something wrong, you’d tell us, right? Tell me?”  
  
Remus looked confused. “I don’t understand? Like what?”  
  
Sirius shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable. “If you needed anything. Anything at all.”  
  
Sirius seemed to be trying to convey something in his gaze, but Remus honestly had no idea what he was getting at. The tone of the conversation was a little awkward, though. He sought to lighten the mood as soon as possible. “Of course I would. You’re my best friend.”  
  
“Am I?” Sirius’ eyes looked like he knew something he shouldn’t.  
  
Remus was even more confused by that. “You are. Why?” He sensed a perfect opportunity to divert the awkwardness. “Has James been saying something to you to make you think you’re not my favourite? Because he’s lying. You’ve always been my favourite.”   
  
“I heard that, and I resent it.”  
  
Remus turned, smiling at James as he walked up to meet them. James had been in a constant state of happiness since Lily had accepted his proposal. Remus knew he could get away with saying anything now, as long as he mentioned Lily at the end of the sentence. “What have you been saying to him?” he said gesturing to Sirius in the hallway next to him. “He’s all insecure,” he laughed. “He thinks he’s not my favourite anymore. I told you that now you had Lily to look after you, I didn’t need to. Stop being so selfish, Prongs,” he said scolding him, though the big smile on his face belied his words. James turned to Sirius, very amused.  
  
“Aww! Are you still upset because I’m the prettiest? I told you, you can’t beat the master.”  
  
“ _Who’s_  the prettiest?” Sirius said offended. “I’ll have you know that I got the most dates in school and Remus says that I’m his favourite, so there!” Remus leaned against the entryway wall and shook his head at his friends’ foolishness. He couldn’t stay, though he wished he could. He pushed off from the wall and walked to the front door. He couldn’t floo out, since he wasn’t flooing to Edinstowe, but to The Leaky Cauldron. Even in their pretend fighting, James and Sirius would hear him call out the wrong address. He didn’t need those kinds of questions.  
  
He left them, still caught up in their conversation, and stepped outside. The sun was setting over Godric’s Hollow and the scene was serene and colourful. It contrasted heavily to the dark twisted path of Knockturn, and the heavy oak-raftered ceilings of the rented rooms in the Leaky Caldron, but he didn’t dwell on that now. He’d failed to dwell on a lot of things for the past two weeks. Raising his wand, he turned in place and felt the familiar and unwanted squeeze before he appeared to the side of Diagon Alley. He moved quickly out of the way, as a group of shoppers walked by him, to avoid being trampled on. The Alley was busy tonight. Summer solstice started in June and Mabon was coming up during the Autumnal Equinox mid to late September. He could see all sorts of things on sale to celebrate the harvest. It was all very seasonal. Fruit baskets and candles were stocked in abundance. His eyes caught sight of a ‘ _Full Moon Candle, guaranteed to light your room all night_ ’. He froze.  
  
He hated that his thoughts whirled around in his head until they ended at square one. Lucius Malfoy. What had he done? He looked up to see the sky empty – new moon. Two weeks ago the moon had been full and he’d... He dared not think about it. He’d been waiting for someone, anyone to turn up at his aunt’s house to arrest him. He’d been expecting a floo call from his parents telling him aurors had been by asking for him.  
  
There was nothing.  
  
He didn’t understand. He couldn’t understand. He’d attacked Lucius Malfoy, but apparently Lucius Malfoy wasn’t telling anyone. He didn’t mind, even though the guilt of what he’d done was killing him slowly. Turning into The Leaky Cauldron, he went upstairs at once. He was already late. Bad work ethic, but not his fault. It was better than not turning up at all. He didn’t want to blame his parents, but his father had lost his job just before Remus took his final exams. He was subsequently blacklisted at the accounting firm he’d been working for and was finding it hard to get another job. His mother hardly knew what a job was, pureblood that she was. Her parents had disowned her after she’d declared her love for the muggleborn John Lupin.   
  
Remus was sure her family had cursed them for it. His mother was a wonderful soul, but she just didn’t understand muggles or how they lived. His father taught her how to drive, but she continuously disregarded traffic laws, Obliviating police officers whenever she was caught. The pair had moved countless times, or so they’d told him, because of her. His father had then pissed off the wrong person when Remus was nine and he’d been attacked in the woods when they’d gone hiking the next weekend.  
  
Remus, being what he was now, guaranteed he couldn’t get a proper job. People who knew him, knew what he was, tended to talk and that often ended with him losing a job faster than he’d gained one. He wasn’t a regular wizard like Peter, he didn’t have a rich family like James or an inheritance like Sirius. His family were weeks away from losing their house. If he didn’t do something, they'd be out on the street. Exchange rates aside, in one night, he made more money than his father used to in a month. It was either this or live on the streets.   
  
He twisted the knob of the door to the rented room and opened it. As he stepped inside and shut it behind him, he decided not to dwell on that for a couple of hours.

The September air was not as clean and the weather was absolutely depressing. It was good to be home. Five weeks of idle chatter, drinks and rather risky manoeuvres around a slope or two and Lucius felt right as rain. He was still slightly hungover, but an extra dose of  _Anti-Veisalgia_  would set him to rights if he could get a hold of an elf quick enough. He was only supposed to have been gone for three weeks, but Rosier, somehow, had grown on him and convinced him to spend an extra two and, again,  _somehow_ , they’d all ended up in Amsterdam. He needed some well earned sleep... and perhaps a check-up in St. Mungo’s, just to be safe.  
  
Lucius froze. Hangover or not, he’d never hallucinated. So when he set foot on the manor grounds, Lucius became aware of two things. The first was that the wards had been taken down. The second was that aurors had swamped the place. He looked around the grounds as he walked up the front stairs. He hadn’t used the floo, since it had been shut off for some reason. He'd had to pay for a Portkey and then apparate in.  _Guess now I know why_. He knew that his father had a maximum security ward, but the aurors were new. He stepped in through the front doors and saw his father with his hands in restraints.  
  
He put down his bag.  _What in Merlin’s name is going on?_  He’d only been gone for a month or so.  
  
Someone turned to him, he didn’t recognise him. He didn’t recognise most aurors and stayed away from them at all costs. It seemed Lucius had spoken aloud and, due to his expression of complete bewilderment, the auror took pity and informed him.  
  
A raid.  
  
Lucius sighed. He’d told his father if he kept up having meetings with shady characters, eventually someone would find out. Did he listen? No. And now the manor would be shut down for review and Lucius and Sabine would be under house arrest. Judging from the looks of the entrance hall, his father had put up a fight. He shut his eyes. They would detain him for resisting arrest, probably obstruction and a whole host of things. His mother would not be happy. He’d left her behind telling her that Father would get them in trouble. She’d laughed it off and told him it would be fine, to go. So he’d gone and now the manor would be shut down until the ministry deemed it safe to re-enter, or until it wasn’t a crime scene anymore.  
  
He glared at his father. “Where’s Mother? Does she know about this? She’s not going to be happy.” He was not looking forward to being the bearer of this news. She was obviously out. If she’d been here, she would already be giving Abraxas a taste of her wrath. On second thought, perhaps he would go and find her.  
  
A series of pitying looks faced him and Lucius looked around at them, wondering what the hell everyone was looking at. Two men looked to the corner, and then a few more and Lucius’ eyes were suddenly drawn to the archway leading from the entry hall to the first living room. The Spring Room, his mother called it. She’d taken to decorating the entire space every year before Spring in pastels. This year, the room was in shades of blue and lavender to ‘ _get some light in this dreary place_ ’. He could still hear her lilting French accent as she spoke. He hadn’t heard it in five weeks. It brought a sense of peace to his mind that always made him smile. He’d confronted Abraxas with her behaviour and he’d just chuckled.  _She’s French,_  his father had told him with a dismissing wave of his hand. He used that phrase a lot, as if the words alone simply explained Sabine as a whole. Actually, they did.  _Let her have her fun._  His parents were so strange.   
  
He turned a sharp gaze to his father, who was glaring at the men around him, before he settled his sights on his son. A cold chill crept up his spine at the look his father gave him and he could sense the atmosphere getting darker, like the sun disappearing behind the clouds and leaving the earth before him darker and dismal. Lucius shook his head in denial and a heavy lead weight settled in his stomach when his father let his stance drop and nodded.  
  
It was getting incredibly hard to breathe. Air was coming out, but for the life of him, he couldn’t draw it in. “No.” He was walking, though he didn’t know how. He stopped when the archway hit his shoulder. The length of the white sheet that covered the body on the floor was her size. Its colour matched his complexion as he dropped slowly to his knees. His robes scratched against the wall, the sound low to his ears. It was drowned out by the sound of his heartbeat, thudding so fast and hard, it made his hand tremble as he leaned forward. He could see a lock of her hair lying curled on the ground outside of the sheet. His fell forward over his shoulders. It was longer now, and he’d put half of it up like she’d told him to. He’d pinned the blasted stuff back the entire time he’d been away – out of sight, out of mind – until he’d left this morning, not wanting to cause an argument so early in the day. Sabine would not have liked that. She didn’t like her two boys arguing. Hers was a lighter shade of blonde, like his, a unique colour that ran in her family. He touched it barely, feeling his breath catch in his throat. It was still soft and vibrant. His hand faltered on the sheet, but he pulled at it, feeling his breath stop completely and stick in his throat instead, as her face was uncovered. He swallowed hard, the frog in his throat preventing him from doing it with ease.  
  
“Who did this?” he managed. His voice, though low, was tense and rough.  
  
A brave auror stepped forward to answer him. “We are still conducting an investigation. Our Pensieve memories will be reviewed extensively.” He looked very serious. Good. “You can be assured of that, Mr Malfoy.”  
  
Lucius’ eyes snapped to his father and back. He looked up at him and rose to his full height. “What happened here?” He knew it was a raid, but for his mother to... no, he couldn’t think that yet. Not yet.  
  
“Your father is a very difficult man to handle. Before we could show him a warrant, he fired at us.” Lucius looked over to see his father standing proud, yet a small chunk of his armour had been chipped away somehow. Lucius could see through him, by the way he kept glancing at his wife’s body and looking away, as if he just couldn’t continue. Lucius knew the feeling. Abraxas would say he’d been defending his home; the excuse of the day. Lucius looked down to his mother’s body. What would be the excuse for her, he wondered. “We fired back, but he’s very adept at duelling. Took all six of us to subdue him. Your mother was found after the fray.” The fray. They hadn’t even noticed her fall until the dust had settled. Did she scream? He didn’t want to think about it. “I’m truly sorry, Mr Malfoy.”  
  
The name had his eyes snapping to his father again. The proud man had got them in hot water before, but this.... He looked down to his mother one last time and looked away, unable to maintain his gaze. This was new, this was definitely different. There was a pain, dull and throbbing, eating away a part of him that he knew he’d never get back.  
  
But he had to be strong, because she would need him to be. “What is the procedure, now? What do you want me to do?”

Appropriately, the rain was falling. Lucius couldn’t see much, for all the rain. In a way, he was glad for it. There had been a lot of chatter before; an annoying buzzing in the background that Lucius wished could be shut off. With the torrent of rain, people couldn’t hear themselves think, let alone talk. There was no one beside him. His father had been cleared of charges yesterday, due to the fact that the aurors had taken down his wards and entered their home without warning. He’d defended himself, not knowing they were there for official ministry business and, therefore, had not thought to ask for a warrant before asking them to leave. 

  
It was ridiculous, but that’s what their solicitor was paid for.  
  
Abraxas had left him to speak to a group of men by a tree. Likely the same group of men who’d sparked the need for a raid in the first place. Lucius didn’t know who they were, didn’t care either. One of them, standing in the middle of them it seemed, was staring at him. The rain fell around them and his dark hair and eyes stood out on his pale skin. Lucius disregarded him, though he could tell the man still stared. He was soaked through, having forgotten to cast his own weather-shield charm. No one approached him, though, or tried to cast it for him. Not even Narcissa, who’d come out of duty to her future family, stood by him anymore. He didn’t blame her, their betrothal was not finalised and his expression displayed – quite clearly – that he wished to be left alone. So he stood, soaked from head to toe, in his black funeral robes, his hair half swept up in a ribbon, like his mother always asked of him; to appease his father. She never asked for much from him, so unlike others he had in his life. If it was the least he could do to make her happy, he would keep it that way.   
  
A sharp pang hit his chest, something he’d never felt before. He looked up and around, convinced he’d been hit by a hex or curse of some sort. No one looked any different. Even the strange man who’d been staring at him wasn’t there anymore. The group had dispersed and his father was walking back toward him. His hand rose to massage his chest. Watching his father, he could already see the harassment coming. His mother wouldn’t be there as a buffer anymore. What was he going to do, now?  
  
Another sharp pang hit his chest, this time closer to his heart.   
  
There were pin prickle stabs behind his eyes and sudden searing warmth encased his face and chest. His clothes felt too tight and his skin was hot and flushed. He felt overwhelmed. She wasn’t going to be here anymore to help him, to laugh with him, to share secrets behind his father’s back. His father, who was closer now, was frowning at him – probably at his expression – as he approached. Lucius’ breathing sped up as he stared at the grave before him. The cold, white, stone coffin blocked his view.  _I’m never going to see her again_.  
  
He had to leave.  
  
One halted step to the side, then another and Lucius was steadily walking away and ignoring his father’s calls. His hand was still on his chest, absently pressing hard and rubbing it as he tried to get his mother’s mischievous laughter out of his head. He needed it to stop, he needed it to go away, and he needed to see her saucy wink and grin disappear before he completely broke down in front of this large group of strangers. The last time he’d seen her wink like that had been in the Manor kitchens. Her hair had been out, with her long curls dispersed around her shoulders. She’d been leaning on the counter as a house elf made her some breakfast behind them on the stove.   
  
 _Why was I in the kitchen?_    
  
Her light scandalous laughter echoed in his mind, even as her hand reached out to shake someone’s hand behind him. She looked up at him. _“I_ like _him.”_  
  
A deep breath forced its way into his lungs as he gasped. In his mind, his mother’s smile became radiant.  
  
Lucius stopped walking.  _Remus_.  
  
His father’s hand closed on air as, suddenly, Lucius found himself apparating away from the Malfoy Manor Cemetery to a plush green hillside overlooking a forested area.

It wasn’t raining in Edinstowe. Remus smiled at the weather report on the television before he switched it off. The sun, though not bright, was still around behind the clouds somewhere, but it was definitely not raining. The small house was empty now, since his aunt took her minibus the day before to camp out at Glastonbury Fayre. She’d told him to be good and not eat anyone who wasn’t breaking in. He’d smiled because he knew she was only being herself. Unapologetic and frank. He loved her for it and the fact that she always gave him space, even though this was her house. She was a muggleborn, like his father, but seemed to have a more relaxed version of John Lupin’s childrearing guide. She’d left with her friends, exclaiming about someone called Peter Gabriel, and disappeared, saying she’d be back on the twenty-fourth or twenty-fifth. 

  
He shook his head as he stood at the sink to wash out his plate, his eyes momentarily distracted by the vial of Wolfsbane Potion on the kitchen counter. Padfoot had been by earlier to drop it off. He tried to convince Remus to let him stay, but Remus would have none of it. It didn’t matter if his wolf behaved better with other animals around. He’d have to get used to being on his own eventually. He’d come up here to ‘find himself’, so he could hardly do that if his friends were there to distract him. Letting go of those thoughts, he focused again on the plate he’d been washing for a couple of minutes and ruefully rinsed it. He’d promised himself he was going to keep the place clean. If his aunt came home to a clean home, it was more likely she’d let him stay another time. At least he’d managed to pay all the house bills in advance before he’d left. He didn’t know if he’d be able to stay for so long if he hadn’t.  
  
Remus looked up, his expression a mixture of surprise and worry, when he heard the unmistakeable crack of apparition. His head turned to the kitchen window. He looked outside to see who would be calling at his aunt’s house. All her friends were with her at the festival, as far as he knew. Something gripped his chest as he stared at a head of platinum blond falling on plain, black robes.  _What on earth?_  he thought to himself as he absently dried his hands and walked to the front door to go outside.  
  
He was just standing there, but as Remus came closer, he could hear the heavy breathing – as if he’d just been running. Remus frowned. Lucius Malfoy didn’t run. Then, he noticed something else. The man’s hair was soaking wet, half of it tied up with a simple, short, black ribbon and plastered to his head and robes, which were dripping rivulets of water onto the green grass. He looked so out of place, as if he’d come from somewhere wet and dreary, to stand on a plush green hillside. A very sudden shock of remembrance overcame Remus as he stood behind the man heaving heavy breaths outside his aunt’s home. A small section in the Daily Prophet. An obituary. His eyes traversed the length of black robes before him.   
  
 _Funeral robes_.   
  
Remus sighed quietly, a heartbreaking sensation of sympathy. His curiosity demanded he find out what led Lucius to  _him_ , of all people, especially after their last encounter a month ago, but, right now, he knew the man just needed some peace. He remembered when his grandfather died a couple of years ago. His funeral had been on the morning of the full moon. He’d been angry and geared for a fight the whole day. Grief hadn’t helped. His aunt had dragged him to her cottage with a phial of Wolfsbane and let him run in the woods all night. He loved it here; the emptiness of his heart had been soothed by the quiet calm nature of Sherwood. He returned solemn, but at peace, after a full night’s run. His anger had bled out into the rich dark soil as he’d howled at the moon. It always amazed him that his wolf could handle anger better than his human side.  
  
Lucius looked as if he’d been drowning in his grief. He’d probably apparated before anyone had a chance to see it. Actually, it looked like he was hyperventilating. “Lucius?” he said quietly, his hand stretched out to touch his arm. It sounded like the breath got stuck in his throat. Lucius turned, grey-blue eyes pinning him in place. A swift summer breeze blew by and though it was warm, it made the blond shiver. Remus held out his hand. “Come on. We need to get you warm.” Foolishly, he’d left his wand indoors and he wasn’t going to ask Lucius for his. He obviously hadn’t cast a weather-shield charm, wherever he’d been, and Remus didn’t know how he would take a half-blood asking him for his wand, anyway.  
  
His hand was freezing, and Remus put him in front of the fire, bypassing the kitchen completely and moving directly to the living room. No one needed reminders of days better forgotten right now. He came back downstairs, after getting his wand, to see Lucius in the exact same position.  _What now?_  he thought in the silent room. When he was caught out in the rain, he always cast a drying and warming charm before going to take a long hot shower. Somehow, the charms just weren’t enough, like how casting a cleaning charm just wasn’t the same as a good long scrub. It must be the muggle in him. Thinking quickly, he pulled the man up, ignoring his passive acceptance and led him upstairs to the bathroom.   
  
With the water running hot, it became obvious that Lucius was incapable of much more than standing still and staring at him. The material was waterlogged and, as he began unbuttoning the multitude of small buttons that went down the front, water seeped out every time he pressed and tugged. His mind couldn’t help but wonder if there was a spell to undo these. He couldn’t see Lucius taking a half hour out of his day standing up in front of a mirror doing this. Deep beneath the grief, he imagined Lucius found him doing it manually amusing. The look in his eyes as Remus pushed his robe off, as if he were waking up a little, made Remus feel better. The robe fell heavily to the floor in a sodden heap after he pushed it off Lucius’ shoulders. The shirt and pants were easier. He had to get the blond to sit on the edge of the tub so he could tug off his boots. When that was done, he directed him towards the spray, pausing only a moment to undo the small ribbon in his hair. Remus wondered if that was the right thing to do after seeing the look in Lucius’ eyes when they followed the ribbon to the counter.  
  
As the blond silently moved into the shower, Remus picked up his clothes and carried them downstairs to the laundry room around the back. Despite them being around the same height, he wasn’t sure how Lucius would respond to Remus offering him some spare clothing. He could dry the clothes in his hands, but... did Lucius really want to put them back on? Remus dried them anyway and, using a hanger, he hung them up on the line above the washing machine to keep the shape of the fine wool and cotton. As he passed through the kitchen to the stairs, Remus wondered if the man had eaten anything.

Though the hot water had done some good, Lucius still felt a chill in his bones as he stepped out of the shower. He was still wet, since he’d left his wand in his robe trousers. If his father could witness this, he’d go red with anger. But his father was not here. Exiting the bathroom he looked up and down the short corridor. There was nothing on the left, since that only had a window overlooking some trees. He walked to the right instead. The walls were painted white, probably to get the maximum of light into the cottage. It was small. Very small compared to what he was used to, but the closeness of the walls, instead of making him feel trapped, felt... pleasant. It was warm in here and, most likely, the atmosphere Sabine went for on her annual decoration stints.

He almost laughed to himself, until he realised those things wouldn’t happen anymore. He’d probably never set foot in the ‘Spring Room’ again. He found Remus sitting in his room, watching a piece of the furniture with moving pictures that was making noise. It sounded like talking. Next to him, there was a plate with a sandwich and a cup filled with a steaming brown liquid. When Remus spotted him in the doorway, he waved him inside and pointed to a very soft and worn in pair of pants. They had a fleece lining and felt very soft and warm against his legs. After putting them on, he accepted the invitation to sit. He knew the food was for him, but he couldn’t stomach to look at it, let alone eat it. He turned it away, but Remus didn’t look upset by that. In fact, he looked like he understood.

In the dead silence, Remus had no idea what to say. Normally, he wouldn’t need to say anything. Normally, they’d already be too busy to say anything. But now it was awkward. With what happened to Lucius’ mother and what happened last month, Remus would think he’d be the last person Lucius would come to. He was very confused. He looked down to his comforter, his hands running softly and aimlessly over the material. He recognised it. His mother bought it for his aunt a couple of years ago. Pushing that thought aside, he noticed the point of Lucius’ wand on his nightstand and picked it up. He turned to Lucius to see he was still staring at nothing and placed a hand on his naked shoulder to get his attention. The blond stared at the wand in his hand. 

“Your hair is still wet.” Lucius continued to stare for a moment. Without saying a word, he ran his hands through his hair, now past his shoulders, and Remus watched as the strands dried instantly. He looked down at the wand again and then replaced it on the nightstand. It obviously wasn’t needed. “I didn’t know you knew wandless magic.” Though, he supposed, if anyone could do it, it would be a  _Malfoy_. When he received no answer, Remus touched Lucius’ shoulder again. “Come on, you need to rest.” He tugged down the quilt they were sitting on as he pulled the man down. Lucius collapsed sideways and lifted his hips to allow the quilt to be moved to cover him.  
  
Lucius’ thoughts were still a jumbled mess that he didn’t have the energy to sort through. He pushed some of his hair back behind his ear and tried to bury his face into the pillow, feeling a hand on the small of his back making circles there to calm him down and another in his hair. It was working. He was so tired. His eyes shut, and when they opened later, the hands had stilled, but rested where he'd left them. He was still dead tired, but the setting sun was making patterns in the trees that danced on the walls. That empty space was still there. He knew if he were to scream into it, the sound of grief would only echo. He needed to drown it out, because he knew he couldn’t mend it.  
  
Remus shifted behind him. The heat of him moved behind Lucius’ back and gave him a moment of pause. The common material of his shirt was soft and, as it shifted and slid along the nerve endings of his back, it made his skin tingle. It was odd. The arm on his waist was heavy and, though Remus was still obviously asleep, his hand moved up once and then further down than it had been before. Lucius shut his eyes and scooted backward a bit. The unmistakeable feel of an erection making him pause one more time. This was dangerous ground he was crossing. When Remus then sighed in his sleep, a long puff of hot air danced over his neck. He shivered, it was sensitive and it made him have to turn his head inward to avoid waking Remus up. He did, however shift backward again, which gave him a shock of surprise.  
  
He was wriggling. It was embarrassing. To add to it, Remus seemed to have woken a little as his hand was now consciously stroking up and down his outer thigh.  _Do it, please,_ he thought to himself. He wouldn’t dare say that aloud. He couldn’t. Instead, he took Remus’ hand and pulled it around him, pushing it down into the pyjama pants he’d been given earlier in the day. He needed to feel something –  _anything_  – different to how he felt at the moment. When he breathed out again, he could still feel the tangible hole in his chest, like there wasn’t anything there. He knew he couldn’t fix it.  
  
But he could damn near try to ignore it.  
  
As the hand around his cock tightened and began to stroke him, Lucius reached to the waistband of the pyjama pants and pushed them down. He felt Remus pause, but placed his own hand over the brunet’s to stop him from pulling away. He couldn’t stop, not now, and Remus had to understand that. He heard a sigh and knew Remus did understand when he told him he needed to get on his knees.  
  
The last time- the last time had hurt; Remus had been close to turning as it was the full moon. His anger hadn’t helped, and nor had Lucius’ words of contempt. He never thought he would want to feel that pain again. All he could think now, as he rose to all fours, was that he’d give anything to just not feel the way he did  _now_. His movements were empty of want or need, though he knew he was trembling a little. The spell Remus used made him jump, especially when a cold layer of gel entered him. He’d not been expecting it so soon, or the finger that pushed its way in shortly after. Lucius groaned as it began to pump in and out and a small distracting kiss was delivered to the middle of his shoulders. Well, this was different. His breathing sped up and when a second finger was added, it momentarily stopped as he arched upward to the sharp intense sensation they delivered when they grazed against the small bundle of nerves inside him. Yes, very different.  
  
It wasn’t hurting him the way it had last month. Actually, it felt so good that he instantly wanted more, and that surprised him. His mouth hung open as the blunt head of Remus’ cock entered him and he navigated his hand around Remus thigh to pull him in, so he was fully immersed in his body. They paused for a moment and as Remus held himself there, he put his hands on either side of Lucius’ where they rested on the bed for leverage and gently kissed his shoulder again, kiss after kiss after kiss, soft, warm, but intense. Lucius could feel Remus’ hard cock fully lodged inside his body, joining them together. His own cock hung between his legs, pulsing urgently, to his surprise. Very slowly, he moved his hips forward and back again, testing his limits. Remus soon joined him, pulling out and gliding back in again. The movement was smooth and controlled, and Lucius could feel an intense heat filling him from the pit of his stomach, spreading out across his abdomen and back to the base of his spine. It made him tingle.   
  
Under his lips, Remus could feel the smoothness of Lucius’ skin, the softness of his hair dancing over and tickling his hands when Lucius dipped his head down to push back against him. This was different, miles away from their usual sessions, last month aside. Before, he could tell Lucius usually went for pleasure, his own more than anything else, but not this time. There was urgency to his movements, a quiet desperation. Lucius was seeking something...  _else_. A distraction. All that mattered was the heat, and the friction, and the feel of Remus’ body aligned with his own because it was taking it all away, it was removing Lucius from the pain he’d been feeling for days. Remus reached for the blond's cock again to find a hand already wrapped tightly around it. Instead of leaving Lucius to it, he entwined their fingers and worked together to bring Lucius to the edge.  
  
When Lucius came, Remus saw a creature he’d never witnessed before. Lucius actually keened, his body tightening and bowing. He could see, over his shoulder, his hand tightening into a fist in the pillow. His arse squeezed so tightly around him that Remus had no choice but to follow him over. He came, hard, and caught himself just before he collapsed totally.  
  
Lucius focused on the pillow he had his fist clenched in. The dead empty feeling was back, not even minutes after he’d come. He realised then that nothing he did would make it go away, nothing short of his mother coming back.  
  
Remus saw Lucius’ head dip down after he came and his hair fall forward to obstruct his face even more. A heated forehead rested on his hand just moments before something hot and decidedly wet hit his wrist. Remus leaned forward a little to see, but didn’t need to when he felt the man beneath him shake. He stroked a hand down his back and turned his head inwards to rest his nose in the juncture between Lucius’ neck and shoulder just as a sob wracked his frame.  
  
“She’s gone, Remus.” Short of groans and gasps, Remus hadn’t heard him speak. His voice was hoarse and ragged. He felt a heavy hand clench his heart.  
  
Remus nodded, not moving his head from where it rested. He circled the blond’s waist with his free hand. “I know. I’m sorry.”  
  
Lucius’ shook his head as another sob escaped him. “She’s not coming back. She’s gone.”  
  
Tugging a little on his waist, he tried to get the man to lie down. “Shh,” he murmured into his neck and then his ear as Lucius lay down on his side. “Get some rest.” His hand trapped under Lucius’ body now, he broke free of the entwined grip Lucius had on his left hand and pulled the quilt back up over them. Now all he could see of the blond was a head of blond hair and the tip of a flushed pink ear that stood out in the middle of it. He pulled the blond strands back and finally rested his hand back where it had been before.  
  
“There’s nothing I can do, Remus, nothing. She’s gone.” The voice was devoid of hope, and Remus felt horrible for it. He could see the last of dusk falling. Moonrise had already begun and he hated even more that he would have to leave the man alone in a couple of hours. 

It was quiet when Lucius next opened his eyes. Some hours must have passed since he’d been awake, as the night was now fully upon Edinstowe. He moved slightly where he lay and felt a slight twinge of pain. Did Remus feel like this all the time? He gingerly sat up, wincing a little as he moved and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Turning, he realised Remus wasn’t even in the room. The whole room was empty and the box with the moving pictures and sound was completely black. The silence, however, instead of being oppressive, was actually peaceful. Getting up, he located his wand on the nightstand and walked slowly to the bathroom. He searched the wall for the small cream coloured lever in the wall that turned on the lights. 

The small space was exactly how he’d left it and he walked in to stand at the sink. The pale blue tile against the wall did nothing for the decor. He ignored it. Looking at himself in the mirror, he wondered who the man before him was. His hair was in complete disarray and his skin was pale – paler than usual. His eyes were red and felt tender and swollen when he pressed against the redness softly. As he leaned, other parts of him pointed out how tender they were. He frowned in concentration and, reaching down, he awkwardly – and carefully – aimed a healing spell at himself, seeing his face tint pink in the mirror. The spell took effect immediately and Lucius sighed in relief, turning the tap to splash some cold water on his face. Though the sensation was relieving, he did not feel any better than before. He stood straight and walked away from his reflection, switching off the light as he left the bathroom. The bedroom was still empty when he walked inside. Sitting down on the edge of the bed he looked around the room again, listlessly. He wondered where Remus could be, until he noticed the pale light shining through the trees against the wall.  
  
The moon.  
  
He stood up quickly and cast a warming and cleaning charm on himself. He found the pyjama pants that had been lent to him, hanging out of the bottom of the bed, and pulled them on before making his way downstairs. He hadn’t expected to find Remus down there, but was surprised nonetheless when he saw the man sitting at the dining table in the kitchen with a hot cup of something and staring at what looked like an empty phial.   
  
Remus looked up at him just as Lucius returned his gaze from the kitchen window. Though the full moon’s glare wasn’t shining directly into the kitchen, he could still see the brightness of it from inside. Lucius frowned. It looked like the moon was high. “It’s been up for hours.”  
  
Remus took note of the disbelief in his voice and smiled a little. He too remembered their last encounter during a full moon. “I won’t change, since I was in here when the moon rose.” He sighed. “Last month,” he began. He shifted in his seat, feeling awkward. “My wolf was angry, but, I had no right... I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “That probably doesn’t mean anything to you, but... he was guilty. I  _still_  feel guilty. The Wolfsbane, it keeps me  _here_ ,” he explained pointing to his temple. “But the rest of me is gone and, that night, he just... whined all night.” He looked confused. “He hasn’t been fighting me lately. I haven’t been getting angry. I thought it was this place but, until you turned up this afternoon.” His eyes rose to meet Lucius’ inquisitive stare. “I think it’s  _you_.” His stare returned to the empty potion phial in front of him. “I’ve been waiting, to see how long it would take him to want out. I mean, I’m feeling the pull, but nothing at all like last month.”  
  
Lucius took a seat opposite him, obviously interested but trying not to come across that way. He was dying to ask, though. “So, why not just stay inside?” He leaned forward, placing his wand next him as he studied the man in front of him.  
  
James had once asked him that. Remus shook his head, deciding not the dwell on the fact Lucius had brought his wand. After what happened, he was surprised Lucius hadn’t left completely. “In general, the wolf inside me angers very easily.” His gaze rose to the pale moonlight on the window sill. “I am drawn by the moon when it’s full. If I just glance at its shine on a wall, it tugs at my baser instincts to run outside.” He’d been trying to fight it since the moon rose. His last encounter with the man asleep upstairs had made him pause. Would he leave as soon as he woke up? Would he come looking for him? What the  _hell_  would Lucius Malfoy do if he came into contact with an actual werewolf? All those questions had been whirling through Remus’ mind as he sat there.   
  
Lucius noticed the way Remus stared. “So if you stay here, you won’t turn at all?”  
  
Remus shook his head. “No,” he whispered. He blinked rapidly, tearing his gaze away to focus on Lucius. “But it makes my next change even harder.” His brow marred. “It’s already painful. Besides, I’m drawn by the full moon at a regular change.” He chuckled humourlessly. “If I deny my wolf his time in the real world, I’m positively  _moonstruck_  by the next cycle.”  
  
“Sounds difficult.”  
  
Remus shrugged. “It’s only three days and the worst of the three is the second.”  
  
“You turn for three days?”  
  
Remus seemed alarmed by the prospect. “Merlin, no.” He laughed a little desperately. “And thank God for that too. No, before and after the full moon it’s waxing and waning. The day before and the day after I get very...on edge.” He paused looking bemused. “At least I did. This month he’s been... calm. Usually, I snap at people and get angry off the cuff.” He could see Lucius’ confusion at the muggle expression and tried to try another way to explain. Sirius had once likened his moods to a woman PMSing or something like that. Needless to say Remus had found it a little offensive and snapped at the man in dog form when they’d changed. He didn’t think Lucius would get that particular expression either. He didn’t even know where Padfoot got it from. Probably a muggle he’d dated. “I have sporadic bursts of anger.” That should do it. Lucius had witnessed it after all, firsthand.  
  
Lucius nodded. “You said it’s painful.”  
  
“Yes. It’s better now that I’m through with puberty, though,” He conceded. “It’s hard enough to face the changing of ordinary bones, let alone the shift of extraordinary ones. I didn’t know if half the changes were usual or not. I got a self help book from the library.”  
  
“What about your magic?” He remembered the man’s wandless abilities from before, but had been so distracted by everything else that was going on that he’d pushed it aside in the moment.  
  
“It’s wilder, yet contained.” Remus shook his head as if that didn’t make sense. “It’s hard to describe. It multiplies, yet it knows its boundaries. Only at the full moon, though.” He shook his head again.  
  
“Go on.” Remus’ head snapped up to stare at Lucius, as if he were crazy. “You need to change, so go ahead.” He rolled his eyes when Remus still stared at him. “Go.”  
  
The teenager stood, but didn’t move anywhere. “But you-”  
  
Lucius shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere.” He gestured outside with his head. “Go.”  
  
Remus took halting steps towards the door and paused for a second before taking off his jumper and pyjama pants. “Um... I’d rather you didn’t see me change. I’m told it’s rather gruesome. I don’t think you need that after the day you’ve had.” The blond cocked an eyebrow at him. “Please, don’t watch. I’ll still be me up here.” He pointed to his temple again. “So I won’t hurt you after.” He gave a small smile. “I’m told I’m rather pretty after, actually.”  
  
Lucius eyed him. He was very curious now. He clucked his tongue softly as he thought it through. “Fine.” He took the jumper Remus handed him.

He’d kept his word, barely. The decibel level of his screaming was phenomenal. It sounded so painful. As soon as Remus had set foot into a beam of moonlight, his whole body had looked like it was put under pressure from something very heavy. He’d fallen to the ground and the slowly closing door had allowed Lucius to see the first few seconds as vertebrae popped in a line down his spine. The door had closed then, cutting him from view. Lucius didn’t want to see anymore.

It took him a second to realise that Remus wasn’t screaming anymore. He’d put on the jumper, feeling cold and not being bothered to cast anymore warming charms. He brushed his hair back off his face with his hand and sat waiting.  _Is it over?_  he thought to himself.  
  
Something scratched at the door lightly. There was a large shadow cast over the window of the kitchen. He knew what it was, but it made his heart jump all the same. It was one thing to know, it was something completely different to  _see_. Still, he was curious. His inner Ravenclaw, as his father often called it. Just like his mother.  
  
He swallowed around the lump that thought formed and got up, picking up his wand on the way and walked to the side door. He twisted the knob and pulled it open.  
  
 _Oh._  His breath caught in his chest and for a moment, Lucius was struck dumb. Remus was magnificent.  
  
The wolf sat on his haunches, looking wild and seeming feral. No one coming upon them now would dare to come any closer. However, his first impression was waylaid by how he sat silent, patient and watchful. Remus stared at him knowingly, a comprehension in his eyes absent from normal animals. He was huge and auburn. Even in the night, Lucius could see the lightness of his irises. The amber he knew so well. His tail moved as Lucius took the two steps down from the kitchen doorway to stand outside and look up at him, side to side on the ground sweeping over the grass. The heat that Lucius had felt before, radiating from the man, it was here now too, and the chill of the night disappeared the closer he came to the creature before him. Slowly, his hand rose to touch his pelt. Remus seemed to think he was taking too long and he moved his foreleg forward to meet him.  
  
Lucius gasped at the sudden movement, but buried his hand in the fur all the same. “Soft.” He looked up. “I could make a nice coat.” He smirked to see if Remus understood, like he said he would. Remus growled a little. “I was joking.” He felt a rush of air as Remus huffed. He turned to the forest behind him and back. He let out a breath as if he was sighing and fell to the ground to lie down.  
  
Lucius ran a finger along Remus’ pointed ear and saw when he shut his eyes. “You want to run.” A puff of air fell over his hands. Those amber eyes stared at him. “Do you understand me?” A nod, “How?” the wolf’s eyes turned to the house, the kitchen. He remembered the potion. “Wolfsbane, of course.” He stopped the addictive stroking and stepped back. “Go on then.” Remus sat on his haunches and cocked his head to the side. “Go.” Remus didn’t seem to want to move despite his earlier desires. His tongue lolled out of his mouth. “Go on, you want to be free. I know how that feels. Go on.” Standing up, the wolf feinted left, right and then turned completely and ran, faster than Lucius thought possible, and disappeared into the trees, a loud howl echoing in the night. Lucius watched him go wondering if, perhaps, he should try becoming an Animagus. His arms broke out with goose bumps, despite his commandeered jumper and his renewed warming charm, so he went inside to look for a blanket or something. He’d be outside for a while, he knew, since he didn’t feel like sitting indoors, staring at the walls on his own, and couldn’t be bothered to recast charms all night.

When he woke up, inexplicably, he was staring at blades of grass and hair. He frowned and turned over, even more confused when all he could see was sky, acres and acres of it. Then it hit him. He’d slept outside. The concept was so new, that those three words were the only things to circle in his mind. Sitting up, he looked around. He was in the same place. The cottage was behind him to his left, the forest to his right further down the hill. Next to him, Remus was sleeping. Naked.

Lucius, still reeling on the fact he’d slept outside, just pulled the blanket he was covering with over the both of them and pulled Remus back towards him. He was still feeling very hot. It was September and the sun was up, though that did little good. But it looked to have been up for a while now. They were lucky it wasn’t raining.  _I’m lying down on grass_. The sentence was baffling to him.   
  
Remus stirred in front of him and then turned onto his back. He blinked and shielded his eyes from the light and looked down. A confused ook was directed at the blanket covering him, until he looked to his left and saw Lucius lying next to him, staring at him. “Still creepy. You really need to rethink your staring policy.” His voice was thick and laced with sleep, but Lucius like the sound. Remus sat up, stretching his back. He turned and looked down. “I don’t suppose you’d give me back my jumper?”   
  
Lucius sat up slowly and stared at him. He smirked and shook his head. “Give up this heat? You’re mad.”  
  
Remus chuckled lowly. “Could I at least get the blanket?” Lucius raised his hands enough for Remus to pull it away.   
  
Lucius watched as Remus pulled the blanket around him. There were small scratches on his skin that had already begun to heal. Was that a frequent occurrence? “How long have you been one?”  
  
Remus paused, and then slowly continued covering himself from the chill of the morning. “A while. Since I was nine.”  
  
Lucius let out a heavy overwhelmed breath. “Nine? Merlin...” He bent his knees and put his arms around them, leaving his wand in the grass.  
  
Remus turned his head to look at Lucius Malfoy in the wild. The breeze picked up and his hair blew forward over his shoulders. The light strands were long and straight. Remus realised that it had grown a lot since he’d first met him in June. He’d read in history books at Hogwarts library that in most pureblood families, the head of the home portrayed his position with the length of his hair. Lucius was being groomed for that. He looked rather comfortable where he sat, though.  
  
Remus sighed. “You have to go home at some point, you know,” he said wisely.  
  
Lucius scoffed and then turned his head, his eyes alight with amusement. “Yeah? Says who?”  
  
Remus laughed and tilted his head. “Lucius, you have a family to take care of and a household to see about.” Lucius turned away. “You lost your mum, but your father just lost his wife. That’s got to be killing him too, even if he won’t show it.” He waited.  
  
Lucius stared back eventually. He could see himself, barely there as a glossy reflection in Remus’ eyes. A light breeze blew around them disturbing Remus’ hair, ruffling it almost like a hand would. It wasn’t the most amazing thing he’d seen but still, it captured Lucius’ attention. Remus turned away from him to look out over the hillside. He reached down with one hand to scratch absently at his knee, shifting the blanket ever so slightly so that the outside portion of his upper thigh poked out, smooth with a light dusting of hair. It was a brief look at a length of muscle, toned and exercised, but Lucius still felt himself shift and looked away. However, his eyes were drawn back by Remus raising his hand from his knee to tuck a stray, slight curl of deep auburn hair behind his ear. The lock immediately decided that it preferred its former location, though, and resumed its position. He watched this process repeat a few times before Remus gave up on it and just let it fly over his face with a huff. Lucius tried to hide a smile and turned away before Remus could see.   
  
Remus glanced over to see Lucius looking out over the hillside. He seemed amused but nothing out there looked amusing to him. He shrugged, let him smile. Merlin knew there was very little else for the blond to smile about. There was sadness in his heart, Remus could tell, and it wasn’t going away for a very long time. He would have to go home soon, return to his life and get married, take over the family name and provide an heir. It would have to be his focus from now on.  
  
Remus looked down to his lap, ignoring the hair that blew over his face to look at his hands. Last night, he'd been seen, studied in a way no one ever had before, not even by his friends. It had touched a part of him that had remained hidden until then. He wanted that feeling back and for a moment, when Lucius was staring at him before, he'd felt it again. But it wasn't real, and it wasn't forever. For once, it would have been nice to have something like that, to have someone’s focus be on him. The thought made him sit up suddenly. He noticed Lucius look over at him, probably wondering what had startled him. He wondered when that had happened. When had they started getting so curious about each other? He smiled and looked away.  
  
Their dynamic had changed somehow, and neither was sure if they wanted to change it back. 


	3. Chapter 3

Six days later, Lucius stood with his father who sat at the desk in his office. He’d returned to get a solemn stare before Abraxas walked off to his wing of the manor, leaving Lucius in the entry hall alone. The grand staircase faced him and, if he’d been brave, he would have turned his head to the right to see the spring room entrance empty. But he wasn’t, so he didn’t. He walked upstairs, turned to his wing and remained in his room until his father called him.  
  
The group of men his father met with had just left, including that strange man with the penetrating stare. Lucius was glad he’d learned Occlumency from his father early on. It had definitely come in handy in his time. He’d introduced himself as ‘Lord Voldemort’. Lucius had not asked, ‘ _Lord of what?_ ’ like he truly wanted to. The last time he had, his mother had told him not to ask it in person. She’d said that was rude. But, really, what a stupid name.   
  
That was some time ago and now, he stood waiting for his father to finish speaking to his colleague. He was a big man, his hair greying and a little matted.  _Are those whiskers?_  he thought to himself. The dark and heavy robes looked like he found them uncomfortable, perhaps even tight and his voice was raspy. The man kept turning to him and smiling knowingly. Lucius was disturbed to realise his teeth were pointed. His father’s gaze shifted between the two, his mind obviously working to find out the secret so obviously present in the room. Lucius wouldn’t mind the answer himself. His curiosity lingered beneath the surface, only his anger to his father’s order kept it in place. He had more important things to deal with than Abraxas’ odd colleagues.  
  
Still eyeing the pair, Abraxas gestured with the roll of parchment in his hand. “Thank you for the message, Fenrir. Inform our Lord that I will be present at the next gathering.” Fenrir turned at the dismissal, his gaze finally pinning Lucius to the plush carpet. He walked towards the door, meaning he was also walking towards Lucius. When he was near enough, Fenrir leaned closer to him, his eyes still narrowed.   
  
“You smell... of  _kin_.”   
  
The words were whispered so lowly, like it was a secret. And that chilled Lucius to the bone more than any threat that could have ever passed his lips. Kin.  _What does that mean?_  He was confused. He looked it. In his surprise, the reaction was forced from him. It granted him a knowing smile and a keen, narrowed gaze. “I see.”  
  
Lucius stared at him, not a little scared. “What do you see?”  
  
Those abnormally light eyes, strange like Remus’ but so unlike the warm, rich, amber, traversed his frame. “Enough.” The man turned once more to Abraxas, nodded and left with a parting glance to Lucius as he passed him.  
  
“What was that about?” he heard behind him, since he was still staring at the door.  
  
Lucius did his best to look nonplussed. “I have no idea.” It didn’t take much to sound winded, or confused. “Who was that?”  
  
Abraxas looked disapproving, but since Lucius obviously had no idea what was going on, he had little to disapprove of and let it go. “Fenrir Greyback. Be careful around him, he’s a werewolf.” Unknown to Abraxas, his son almost had a heart attack. His heart hit his ribs like a caged beast and his eyes widened. He hoped his father couldn’t hear it.  
  
Kin.   
  
 _Wolf._    
  
Luckily, Abraxas nodded at the reaction he could see. “I know. Not exactly the best company to keep, especially in our house, but our Lord likes him.” He shrugged and lifted a folder of documents onto his desk from his drawer. “I have your betrothal papers here. Narcissa has already signed them.” He pushed them forward.  
  
Lucius walked up to the desk and reached for a quill. Five weeks abroad and an additional few days mourning and – dare he think it –  _finding himself_  (when Remus had said that to him, he’d actually laughed) made for an eye-opening experience. It was time to grow up, take on his responsibilities like a man and get on with his life. “When is the wedding?” he asked.  
  
“June next year,” Abraxas answered as he watched Lucius signing his name on the parchment next to all of Narcissa’s signatures. He was satisfied that Lucius was not fighting him anymore. This was a good thing. It meant the continuance of their family line. A pure heir. Narcissa Black was perfect for them.  
  
“Is this all?” Lucius asked him and he nodded. “Alright.” He put the quill down and waited. “Do we have any meetings today, Father? Only, I had plans to meet with a friend.”  
  
Abraxas sat at his desk and shooed him with his hand in dismissal. “You may go. I’ll see you at dinner.”  
  
Lucius left the room. When the door closed behind him, he smirked as he turned towards his room. He may be growing up and getting on with his life. But what was life without a little danger?

Remus laughed against his neck. “Stop it.” But his breathy laughter didn’t exactly make Lucius take him seriously. In retaliation, he tightened like a vice and laughed again when Lucius groaned. “I said stop it, it tickles.” He’d noticed him as he followed behind James and Sirius in Diagon Alley. He’d seen the gesture, the invitation, and had fallen for the coaxing. He’d disappeared, taking the opportunity just as they’d gone inside Garbel and Japes for the  _Wet Start No-Heat Fireworks_  that had taken the nation by storm, and run away from his friends. He leaned down from where he sat, astride the blond, and crushed his mouth down onto Lucius’, shoving his tongue into the other man's mouth with a biting, bruising kiss. He wrapped one arm around Lucius’ neck, playing with his very dishevelled pony tail where he’d tied it back, allowing himself to be lifted and pulled back down. It felt amazing, and a little naughty, since he’d completely ditched his friends to be there. 

  
Lucius’ hands drifted down from Remus’ waist to his hips, pulling him down harder as he thrust up, grinding into him. Remus’ tongue was hot on his neck once he'd relinquished his mouth and he felt it flicker across his skin. Not able to take it anymore, he turned, making Remus lose balance and flipped them over. Blunt nails dug into his back as his next thrust hit home, and then again, deeper this time. Remus threw his head back, exposing the long column of his throat and tightened around him in reaction. It felt glorious and he was about to explode. Remus couldn’t speak, he didn’t even try. Instead, he pulled Lucius’ head toward his own and moaned against his mouth, arching into him and gripping his hair tight to guide him into the kiss. Letting go of his lips, he rested his head, temple to temple, against Lucius, holding on to his shoulders as he met him thrust for thrust. He could feel Lucius’ hands against his skin like a brand, the burn only adding to the heat he could feel building in the pit of his stomach.   
  
Lucius could tell Remus was close by the way he was clenching around him. Remus was getting tighter and tighter and he, too, was almost there, pounding into him with his last shred of self-control until his orgasm rippled through him, like waves. When Remus followed him over the edge, it felt incredible.   
  
When he was able to take stock of his surroundings, he was on his back, staring at the ceiling and panting heavily. Remus had a smile on his face and a hand over his eyes. Lucius had an idea how he felt, energised, yet worn out at the same time. After those meetings today with his father, this bout had used up what little energy he had left. He shut his eyes for a second.  
  
“You awake?” There was a hand on his stomach. He groaned and stilled the hand with his own.  
  
“Give me a minute. I’m tired.” Remus laughed next to him, but he couldn’t open his eyes to check if he was still waiting. He hadn’t realised he was so tired before.  
  
The next thing he knew, he was waking up. The ceiling looked a lot darker than before, which meant he’d been asleep for a while. He looked around him. The room was empty, except for Remus lying down next to him. He was facing away from him, even breaths signifying he was asleep.  _I don’t know how much longer I can do this with him._  Fenrir hadn’t said anything to his father, since he’d not received a summons and a severe lecture, nor any threats to disown him. Lucius sat up. There had to be a way around this.  
  
Remus stirred and turned over to see Lucius sitting up and staring at the wall across from the bed. The blond hadn’t noticed, so he simply watched him in silence. He looked concerned, worried. “It’s not my business,” he said propping himself up on his elbows, “but you’ve called me three days this week. What’s going on?”  
  
 _Just making sure you’re still available. That you’re still around._  He’d taken Fenrir’s words to heart. He couldn’t stop thinking about them. “Nothing is going on. Go back to sleep,” he snapped.  
  
Remus frowned and sat up properly. “Why are you talking to me like that?” Lucius didn’t answer, simply continued to stare. He let out a humourless laugh and flung back the covers on his side of the bed. Getting up, he located his pants and pulled them on.  
  
“What are you doing?” he heard and turned.  
  
He gave an obvious gesture. “I’m leaving.”  
  
Lucius narrowed his eyes, his arms resting on top of the quilt that lay on his lap. “Why?”  
  
Remus raised his arms in frustration. “Because I don’t understand you!” He grabbed up his shirt. “You’ve called for me three times in a row and I’ve actually  _cancelled_  my plans to come and see you. I left my friends today to come here.” He was laughing to himself as he buttoned a couple of buttons on his shirt. “And the stupid thing is, I’m not even here because I need the money." He seemed to be reprimanding himself. "But you know what? I still want it, so hand it over.” He held out his hand. Lucius watched him for a second, figuring out if he meant it before sighing and leaning over to his robe, hanging on the chair, and pulling out the money bag there. He handed it to him. Remus saluted. “Don’t worry, I am the idiot here and I’m conceding defeat and leaving while I still have my dignity intact.” He walked to the door, twisting the knob. “Goodnight, Lucius.” The door slammed back into place. Remus didn’t even bother to turn around, he just took in the two pale hands that were palm flat against the door on either side of him. His shoulders slumped, the fight going out of him. He was exhausted trying to keep up with this man. “What are you doing?” he asked hopelessly. Silence followed his question and he rested his forehead against the cool, cheap wood of the door. He really didn’t understand this man. He could feel Lucius standing close behind him, most likely still naked.  
  
“I don’t know.” Remus shut his eyes. That voice sounded so lost. Lucius’ forehead rested against the nape of his neck. It made him shiver.  
  
With a heavy sigh, he turned around.  _Yeah, still naked_. He placed his hands on Lucius’ chest, making him back up a little, and then just rested them there. “Lucius-” He searched for the right words first. “You don’t want to hear what I’m about to say, but I’m going to tell you anyway because, either you’ve worked it out and you’re denying it and taking your frustration out on me, or you  _haven’t_  worked it out and you’re taking your frustration out on me.” He paused and swallowed, his throat feeling dry. “Now, whether you like it or not, you feel something for me.” Before Lucius could interrupt, he cut him off. “You’ll go home now,  _after_  you yell at me in denial, of course, and you’ll think about it.” He bit his lip in thought. “However long that takes, you’ll come to realise it and you’ll come to me and do one of two things. You’ll either break this arrangement completely or you’ll accept it and break this arrangement completely. Then you’ll go back to your high society living.” His hands dropped to his waist, his thumbs brushing back and forth over Lucius’ skin. “I’ll see you in Diagon Alley sometimes,” he continued to narrate, “and maybe I’ll be lucky enough to get an acknowledging nod from you, maybe not,” he added shrugging. He looked up. “Life will go on.”  
  
Lucius was silent, his eyes pinning Remus to the door. His nod was barely there. “That’s what you think?” he asked, his eyes narrowed in question.  
  
Remus shrugged. “Yes. That’s what I think.” His eyes were searching, but he knew he wouldn’t find what he was looking for. He’d fallen in far too deep to get out of this one. It was going to be  _hell_  letting him go. “And I’ll let you do it.”  
  
Lucius didn’t understand. “Why?” he asked, shaking his head in disbelief.  
  
Remus laughed a self deprecating laugh. “I have a problem, you see,” he said pointing to himself. He let his hand rest on his chest. “I’m the guy that likes to be liked.” He was smiling, but there was nothing funny or happy about what he was saying. “I let my friends get away with things no legal citizen should,” he listed, “I give them the power to treat me however they want and they, in turn, take the invitation and walk all over me. I know it and I do it anyway, because in return, they remain my friends.” He shrugged. “I don’t have any outside of them and I can’t afford to lose them.” He licked his lips. “People like me, we don’t get along alone. Wolves are lone creatures, but we still need Pack. It’s buried deep within me, I can’t shake it.” He stepped forward and pushed a little to get Lucius to move back some more. “We’ll skip the yelling, yeah?” He leaned forward and kissed him slowly, much like he had when they finally got upstairs a few hours ago. When he let go, he opened his eyes and Lucius drowned in a sea of amber. “I’ll see you around.” Remus turned and opened the door. He was stopped by the grip on his arm. He turned back, his body still in the doorway, to see a very determined look in Lucius’ eyes.   
  
“Yes. You will.”

“Wait, wait a moment.” Lucius raised his hand, resting it then against his head, with his fingers along his brow shielding the light of the candles in the room and his thumb against his temple. He shut his eyes, the weight of what his father had just told him putting pressure on his already existing headache. The brandy in his glass warmed in his left hand. The heat rose with his anger. “Let me just get this straight. You’re telling me that you’re threatening to kill my fiancée, if I don’t join your men’s club, is that right?” He raised his head, his eyes open, but narrowed. It had been like this for a while now, since his mother died. There was no one to temper the fires anymore. If they didn't tone it down, someone would end up getting burned.  
  
“The group of our Lord-”  
  
“Your Lord. I haven’t joined.”  
  
“We are called Deatheaters.” Abraxas raised his sleeve of his shirt. Lucius’ eyes were drawn to the unexpected shape of a tattoo on his father’s forearm. It did not, however, surprise him. A lot of things had changed since his mother died. He couldn’t tell if he was grieving in a special way or if this was a part he had been hiding – something he’d kept at bay all along.  
  
Luicus took a sip of his brandy, forcing his chuckle back. “Oh Father, you would not believe how much I truly  _do not care_  what you’re called. Honestly, if I told you, you wouldn’t believe it.” He absorbed the fury in his father’s eyes and shook his head. “So,” he said as if concluding their meeting. “You go ahead and kill her, but you’re telling her family what happened to their prized stallion.” He stood up. “I’ll get back to you when I go through the folios again and choose yet another woman that I do not want to marry.” He bowed his head curtly and walked to the door.  
  
“You will do it.”  
  
Lucius was surprised at the anger in him, especially since it was making its way out. “Like hell I will.” He’d been spending far too much time with Remus. It was either that, or he’d drank far too much brandy. Though he was sure the wolf would be proud of him, standing up for himself. For a change. His hand curled around the handle of his father’s study door.  
  
His father was obviously occupying the same thought-pattern. He went silent, as if weighing his options. “Did you know that werewolves are severely adverse to silver?”   
  
Lucius frowned, the change in topic was so random yet well-placed to throw him off. Lucius turned and eyed his father, warily curious to what he meant, to where this was going.  
  
Abraxas had lowered his sleeve. He reclined easily into his chair by the window. “Have you ever seen one in contact with silver? It’s not pretty. They scream. Like a  _stuck pig._ ” The syllables were over pronounced and Abraxas’ face contorted, as if he were disgusted by the mere mental picture of it. Lucius held back a cringe, aware of the cold glare he was receiving. “I hear you’ve been making... friends.” The word ‘friend’ sounded dirty, Lucius was sure that was the point.  
  
It took a second, but the alcohol-laden fog cleared enough to let the realisation in. And there it was. The final word. Fenrir had tricked him into complacency. He should not have trusted him. This could not be happening. “You wouldn’t dare.” That was not what he’d meant to say. And now that he’d given away his weakness, he was paying for it.  
  
His father stood quickly. “Wouldn’t I?” he said with extra bite. Lucius had never heard that tone in his voice before. It was laced with disgust. “You have no idea how humiliated I was when he announced it to the room.” Lucius had a good idea, actually. He’d only met Fenrir once and in that short space of time, he was sure that anything depraved anyone told him Fenrir was capable of, was likely to be true. This included the humiliation of his father. “I’m surprised you find this a shock, Lucius.” Abraxas stepped up close. His father was a tall man, taller than him and he used his height to his advantage. “You  _defile_  yourself with not only a halfblood, but an  _animal_ , and you expect me not to react?” The man turned away from his son and stood tall behind his desk. His hands planted as fists on the dark oak as he leaned forward. “You will join or I will have your  _mutt_  put down.”  
  
Lucius breathed heavily through his nose, his hand gripping the brandy glass in his hand so tightly, he had to put it down before it broke. Standing straight, he glared at his father. “Goodnight, Father.” He left then, walking out of the room. He wanted to slam the door, but he wouldn’t give Abraxas the satisfaction. He walked to the main entrance and then up the stairs, speeding up as he went. Before he knew it, he was running.   
  
Lucius shut the door of his bedroom quickly. His heart was racing. He was not willing to believe it before, but his fear confirmed it. That teenage wolf was right. Remus Lupin meant...  _something_  to him, if not as a lover then as a friend, at least. He wondered when that happened, only to realise they’d had plenty of opportunity over the past three months to become close. Very close.  
  
Before it had been a little fun, a way to ease the tension for a couple of hours with someone he didn’t know – didn't need to know. Now, he was in serious trouble. 

Rufus Scrimgeour shook his hand. “I’m glad you could meet with us Mr Malfoy. Please, have a seat.” Lucius thanked him with a nod and sat in the chair opposite the Head Auror in the DMLE office. He’d not been sure what was meant by summoning him there, since he’d not been witness to anything, save the fallout of major chaos.  
  
An auror, one he distinctly remembered from the day his mother had been killed, stood in a corner with another Auror he was not familiar with. Then again, there were so many of them in the manor at one time, he would need a Pensieve memory to memorise them all. “I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here?” Lucius cocked an eyebrow. That pretty much went without saying, didn’t it? “Well, I’m not sure if you know, but your home, Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, is an independent structure in the British Isles.”   
  
He did know that. As such, Malfoy Manor, was an independent structure from ministry law. It was an ancient law that a great grandfather to the nth of his had enacted with a friend in the ministry, back when the government was formed. Any warrants had to be air-tight, which was how they’d failed to detain his father in the first place. There was plenty of evidence to confirm he’d attacked the aurors first. However, disabling wards before they entered was their main mistake and he’d walked free. Being independent meant that those in charge of the household were, in a way, given diplomatic immunity, as long as the offense happened on Malfoy Manor soil. It was only if the head of household waived the rights, that the ministry would be able to make an arrest. Either that, or an attack on a ministry official without being provoked would have to have taken place.   
  
At his nod, Head Auror Scrimgeour continued. And I’m sure you know that-”  
  
“I apologise for the interruption," he said, bored already, "but if you’re sure I know this can we move on to what I do not know? The reason you asked me here?”  
  
Scrimgeour nodded. He gestured for the auror Lucius knew to come forward. The man stood beside him. “In the case of your mother, we wish to know if you want to press charges. It happened in your home. We cannot arrest due to the laws and protocols of the Manor.  
  
Lucius eyes him carefully. “What will happen to the suspect if I press charges?”  
  
Scrimgeour leaned forward on his desk and linked his fingers, resting them on the desk. “Well, it’s murder, Mr Malfoy. If you give us jurisdiction, we’ll make sure he pays.”  
  
Between the two of them, he wasn’t sure what was going on, but they were holding something back. He could tell. Perhaps all those meetings he'd been forced to go to were beneficial after all. “Why didn’t you go to my father with this? He is, after all, the reigning heir.”  
  
Scrimgeour gestured from the auror to Lucius. He handed Lucius a file. “What is this?” Lucius asked.  
  
“It is a list of all the spells used by the aurors that were in your house on the day your mother was killed.” Another sheet of parchment, part of an autopsy report, was placed next it. “This is the spell that killed your mother. To be sure, we performed  _Priory Incantatum_  back to one hundred for all the wands.”  
  
Lucius glanced through the hundreds of spells, some rather embarrassing. He looked up. “Can I have a summary?” If they expected him to go through all of them now, they were sorely mistaken.  
  
Scrimgeour stared at him gravely. “None of the wands reviewed performed that spell, except for one.”  
  
He placed the folder down on the desk. “And?” His heart felt like it were about to drop to the bottom of his ribcage.  
  
“And it was not an auror who cast the spell.” That hollow chasm that had barely been filled again renewed it depths. “We cannot ask your father if he wishes to press charges. We know his answer.”  
  
He understood now, why they asked him here instead. He was their only chance. “You realise what you’re asking me to do? You’re asking me to overthrow my father.” Just saying the words sounded like betrayal, mutiny.  
  
“We’re asking you for justice.”  
  
Lucius ran his eyes over the list of spells and the autopsy report. His mother’s autopsy report. He stood. “Thank you.” He would have to think about this. And even if he wanted to agree, he would never do it here. He’d never say it aloud in such a place as the ministry. He wasn’t crazy.  
  
“Mr Malfoy,” Scrimgeour’s voice made him pause in the doorway, he turned back in question. “Do you have any idea why?” Why would a man want to kill his own wife? Right question, wrong phrasing. He should have asked, ‘Do you know why your father would want to kill your mother?’ This wasn’t about Abraxas, he’d learned that from the pale man with the dark penetrating stare.   
  
It had always been about Lucius.  
  
He shook his head. “No.” Turning around he left the office. He would never admit that aloud either. Did he know why? Of course he did.   
  
It was burned into his arm.

This was becoming a habit. Remus paused with his cup to his mouth as Sirius sat down across from him. He looked tired, but worried at the same time. Sirius never looked worried. He was the least worried person Remus had ever known. He didn’t have problems or difficulties (unless it was in writing essays, but even then it was only when he wanted Remus to read what he’d written to make sure it was alright).  
  
“You alright?” he asked and then finally took a sip of his coffee. He’d broken from his usual.  _Someone_  was obviously rubbing off on him. His brow marred. Lucius hadn’t owled him in a few days. He hoped the man hadn’t taken him up on his offer. Much as he talked big, he hadn’t really wanted it to end.  
  
“I’m fine. You?” Sirius was staring at him, his blue eyes piercing. Remus sat back a bit.  
  
“I’m fine.”  
  
“You sure?” he said quickly, as if he’d known how Remus would answer and was calling him on it.  
  
Remus put down his cup. He didn’t have time for this, nor was he in the mood. Last night had been rough and the man he’d met with had been less than considerate. Even with a basic healing spell, he still felt a twinge. “Are you going somewhere with this?” he asked tiredly.   
  
“Where were you last night?” Remus’ eyebrows rose.  
  
Remus narrowed his eyes. “I was at home.”  
  
Sirius snorted. “I doubt that.” Remus decided to ignore the soon to be one-sided conversation and instead opened the paper he’d bought on his way to breakfast. “I was at Aunt Sarah’s house last night. You weren’t there.” He always called his friends’ relatives as if they were his own. It made sense, since they were all like adopted family to each other.  
  
Remus’ gaze snapped to him, front page forgotten. “Why?”  
  
Sirius’ expression told him he wasn’t joking in the slightest. “I think you know why.” He crossed his arms. “I’ve known for while. I was curious the morning after James proposed to Lily, especially since you were wearing the same clothes I’d left you in the day before. Kind of like now.” Remus looked away. “You either slept in your clothes or you slept out of them and put them back on. It was a series of clues and I just worked them out.” He shrugged. “Then I used James’ cloak, and I followed you. I first wondered why you were renting out a room at The Cauldron. It didn’t make sense. And then it did.”  
  
Remus’ face blushed red. He felt embarrassed, angry and ashamed. He settled on angry. “Why were you following me?” He leaned forward. “This is none of your business.”  
  
Sirius looked hurt by what Remus was saying. “I was  _worried_  about you. You’re withdrawn, and you barely talk to us. You’re my best friend, Remus, and I hardly see you.”  
  
Oh Merlin, he was getting upset. Remus could feel the sharp pinpricks behind his eyes. “That’s not my fault.”  
  
Sirius shook his head. “Not completely, no.” His arms rested, still crossed, on the cafe table. “I mean, there are four of us in this equation – well, barely, anyway.” He rolled his eyes heavenward. “James is so caught up in this wedding, I can’t recognise him anymore, Peter is always off doing Merlin knows what and you, you’re meeting up with strange men in a rented room. I figure you’re the immediate priority here, so I’m starting with you and working my way down.”  
  
Since when did Sirius ever care about fixing people? “Padfoot, I’m fine.” He sat back, prepared to forget this conversation ever happened. He looked down at the front page of the prophet. It blared ‘ **A Pox on the Manor, A Malfoy Incarcerated** ’. He frowned and read through. He then dropped his scone. Abraxas Malfoy had Dragonpox.  _That’s a nasty viral infection to get rid of_. He was quarantined on the second floor of St. Mungo’s. Remus bit down on his bottom lip. That meant Lucius was home alone.  
  
“Is that why you’re meeting with Lucius Malfoy?”  
  
Remus' head snapped up so fast, he could have got whiplash. “What are you talking about?” He’d answered that too quickly. Mistake number one.  
  
Sirius narrowed his eyes. “I have eyes, Remus. And I know it was more than once.” He shook his head looking outside to the bright umbrellas over the tables. The heavy rain was pouring over them, dulling their colour. Sirius looked sad. “People think I never see, that my head is too far up my own arse to notice things, but I noticed you. I saw you one night going up to the guestrooms with him in The Cauldron, but I’ve also noticed you watching him in Diagon whenever he’s around. Shortly after, you disappear.” He took a breath and held it for a second, preparing himself to ask  _and_  hear the answer. “Does he pay you? Is it the money you need? All you have to do is ask! We're right here for you if you ask.”  
  
Remus stared at him and remained silent. He didn't want their money, nor their charity. Sirius knew his answer, though, even if Remus didn’t say anything. His expression was imploring. “You have to be careful, Moony. He’s marrying my cousin. You remember her, the blonde in the sea of brunets?” Remus knew of Narcissa Malfoy, though he couldn’t ever remember seeing her. Sometimes he forgot he was only a first year when Lucius was in his seventh. "She’d graduated already when we were going into third year. Pretty blonde, completely ruins her face by looking like she smelled something awful,” Sirius added trying to coach him into remembering her.  
  
A sudden flash of memory hit him. “Right, yeah. Okay.” He remembered Sirius saying something exactly like that a while ago, about a blonde girl in the school library.  
  
Sirius nodded. “Yeah.” He sighed. “Look, my family isn’t like me or Andromeda. Uncle Cygnus is already threatening to have Mum burn her off the tapestry like they did me.  _Everything_  for them is about blood purity and, apparently, there’s some self proclaimed Lord preaching it to them. It’s getting dangerous out there, Moony, and Malfoys aren’t exactly known for their love of halfbloods and muggleborns.” A furrow marred his brow then and he paused. “Though my belief in that was shattered a little by what he’s, apparently, doing with you.”  
  
Remus sighed. If Sirius already knew, had already seen him, there wasn’t much to gain by pretending. “Not anymore. I haven’t seen him in a while.” He looked up from where his fingers had been playing with the handle of his cup. He stared solemnly at his friend. “I don’t think he’s coming back, Sirius.” He shook his head though, as if it didn’t matter. “I told him to go, anyway. He doesn’t need me keeping him back. He’s getting married soon. He has to produce an heir, take over a family.” His eyes ran over the picture of the manor on the front page of the Prophet. “There is very little room in that for me.”  
  
“Remus-”   
  
“I wasn’t expecting miracles, Sirius. I’m jaded, not stupid.” Thinking on what Sirius said, a concerned look appeared on his face. “But... he doesn’t seem the type to want to follow behind a self-proclaimed ‘Lord’ though. He’s far too belligerent for that.” He shrugged. “I imagine this ‘Lord’ would have him killed for the things he’d say.” He smiled a little, sadly, eyes still on the paper.  
  
“Just be careful, okay? Dumbledore has got in touch with us. He wants to meet us all. James said he spoke to him through the floo and that he seemed... weird.”  
  
Remus scoffed slightly, still looking away. “This is new?”  
  
Sirius actually laughed. That sounded more like his best friend. “Well... he’s calling a meeting and including us. I don’t know what he wants, but James seems to think it’s important, so...” Remus raised his head waiting for him to finish. “I’m not trying to preach to you, Merlin knows I’ve been with my fair share of the odd and fairly legal, but, when a wizard goes over to the Dark Side, there's nothing and no one that matters to them anymore. Just keep that in mind, yeah?”  
  
Remus nodded and continued reading his paper. He read that Lucius had been appointed the head of the family in his father’s stead as Sirius got up to ask Heather to make him his usual breakfast. Apparently, Lucius' first order of duty was to order a thorough investigation into who killed his mother. He nearly choked when he read what the results stated.  _No way_. Lucius had pressed charges, and now Abraxas was getting the kiss as soon as he was released from the hospital. Lucius had insisted.  
  
Remus looked outside at the rain. It looked torrential, there was so much of it. Lucius had told him the rain was heavy when he’d been at his mother’s funeral. Abraxas hadn’t seemed too concerned, though he had looked distant. He remembered how the blond had fallen apart after coming to him. It must have hurt having to lose his mother like that. Remus could only imagine how Lucius felt knowing that his father had killed her. He wouldn’t know what to do.  
  
A thought arose in his mind. He looked down at the paper. Lucius had insisted his father get over the case of Dragon Pox before he got the kiss. That didn’t make sense. As head of household, and having the crime performed on  _his_  premises, he had the authority to order it. As long as the ministry got their way in the end, they didn’t care and readily agreed. The main headline was in all capitals.  _A Pox on the Manor_. _Where on earth would he have got Dragon Pox?_  There wasn’t a bout of it going around now. Thank Merlin, it was very hard to get over Dragon pox, and the older the victim, the harsher the infection.  
  
As Sirius returned to him grinning, Remus smiled up at him and moved the paper over so he could set down his plate. “She gave me these on purpose, you know. I’m sure she digs me.” Remus rolled his eyes at Sirius, glad they’d got over this hurdle. He drank down the last of his coffee and nearly choked on it.  
  
 _She gave these to me on purpose..._  
  
His eyes widened at the view of the manor on the paper. He’d folded it to get it out of the way. Remus may not have known what he could do to make Abraxas pay, but Lucius obviously had. 

“You need to at least tell me something you like. Some part of you has to be injected into this ceremony.” She sounded frustrated and amused at the same time. Her blond hair was swept up in a high ponytail. Lucius found it ridiculous that he envied her, but there it was.  
  
He still didn’t understand why he was there. “I was under the impression that this was the bride’s big day. The wedding is in June, why is something like this so important in October?” He’d made it known that his wife to be could have the wedding however and wherever she wanted. He knew from his mother’s coaching that females tended towards planning their wedding from a very early age. Since he’d not harboured any feelings like that, he’d told her whenever he got married he’d let his fiancée have at it. Sabine had never smiled so wide at him.  
  
“You’ve caught me out.”  
  
He tuned into the one-sided conversation. “What’s that?”  
  
She closed the book she’d brought with her. It was a convenient cover, but simply that, a cover. “I actually just wanted to meet with you. We’ve been betrothed for a month and I’ve yet to have a conversation with my future husband.”  
  
He took a sip of his coffee. “Well, it seems we have a full blown marriage already,” he said and put it down again.  
  
She smiled at him. “I doubt that’s how they work. Is that how your parents' worked?” His stony glare made her re-evaluate her approach. She’d been at the funeral, and she’d read the paper last week. That had been a bit below the belt. Not a good start. “I’m sorry, that was out of line.” She sipped at her tea, but he could tell she was working her way up to ask him something. He waited. “Could you tell me about her?” She sounded as if she thought he’d explode on her at any second.  
  
He was still deciding on that. “What do you want to know?” he said eventually.  
  
Narcissa tried not to let the surprised look stay on her face for too long. Still, this was a miracle in the works. She was a bit lost for words at first. “Okay, how about, how did she cope being the matriarch of such a  _well known_  family?” she asked for lack of better words.  
  
He almost smiled. He could very well like her. “Well known?”  
  
She was staring outside. The sky was overcast but it wasn’t raining. The biting chill of October had people staying indoors so the cafe was pretty full. Large carved pumpkins lined the enclosure of tables and umbrellas. She was smiling, at ease with his non-threatening countenance. “Well, I don’t want to give you a big head. Not yet.” She gave him a knowing grin.  
  
She reminded him of Sabine. “I think you’re doing just fine.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
How could he put this? “My mother she... she was unique.” He shook his head fondly. “The Malfoy family, I don’t think they were ready for her.”  
  
She was watching him carefully. “There is a light in your eyes when you speak of her.”  
  
She was a beacon on her own. “Everything has changed now she’s gone. Even my father... he changed the most, I think.” He wanted to say he became meaner, but he was twenty-four and no man of that age complained that their father was mean. Only, he was. He’d said things that no person should say to a man who’d just lost his mother, especially when they’d been so close. Lucius had almost pulled his wand on him a couple of times. He leaned forward to get a sip of his coffee. “Just small things he did. They’re not important.”  
  
“They’re important to you.” He looked up at her. Her stare was open and frank. He looked away. No Slytherin worth their salt could give a look like that out in the open, especially somewhere like this. She’d caught him off guard, and he applauded her for it, but he wouldn’t fall for it again. She may be his future wife, but short of Occlumency, she wasn’t getting inside his head.  
  
“Narcissa, what do you want? Really.” He stared at her, completely closed off now and she knew she’d lost him again.  
  
The book that had been on her lap was placed on the table and she sat up, foregoing the comfortable stance she’d used to her advantage. He had to hand it to her, she was good. Just not good enough. “I want to know where I stand in this marriage.”  
  
He gestured with his hands for her to continue talking. That was not enough. “And the questions, trying to get me to open up to you. That was...”  
  
“Simple strategy.” Guarded, but honest. That was more like it. This, he could work with.  
  
He nodded. The bell rang over the door and his eyes snapped up on reflex. “Why don’t you set your terms?” he said to her, making his eyes leave Remus alone. A red haired woman followed behind him, as well as a dark-haired man with piercing blue eyes. He ignored him. Narcissa cocked an eyebrow and Lucius focused on her instead. “You obviously want something out of this. What is it?”  
  
She sighed and he wondered if this was part of a set up too, but the gait of her shoulders told him she was now uncomfortable, which meant she didn’t want to divulge this information. “My family may just burn me off the tapestry for this.” Lucius wasn’t sure how to answer that, since he had no idea what she was talking about. She seemed to be talking to herself, though, so he let her be. While he waited, he couldn’t help it, his attention eventually strayed to the counter. He got a red blush in reply and turned away hiding a smile and ignoring the blue-eyed man’s glare. He’d become adept at that. He tuned into what Narcissa was explaining to him.  
  
His brow furrowed. “I wasn’t planning on having an elf raise my child anyway,” he said catching the last of her query. “I suppose I was practically raised by one, but no one truly knows how long house elves will last and I don’t trust the others to be at all competent at it.”  
  
“Oh.” He waited. “My Father, he’s threatening to disown my sister for wanting to marry a muggle.”  
  
He wasn’t sure where this was going. “You wish for me to take in your sister?”  
  
She shook her head, her eyes wide. “No. It’s just... anything he doesn’t see as his way, it’s an instant betrayal to the family. Is your father the same?”  
  
Lucius nodded. “He is.” Abraxas was still in the hospital trying to beat his sudden viral infection. Until he succumbed, or went to Azkaban, the manor and its holdings were in temporary sustainment and Lucius’ hands were tied in legal ropes. He didn’t mind the wait, though. He leaned forward, beckoning her closer. “But he won’t be for long.” He’d made sure of that. He picked up his cup of coffee. “A toast.” His eyes tracked to the door and only relented his gaze when the figures there disappeared up the Alley. “To our future. May it be as long as we can make it.”  
  
Narcissa eyed him strangely, though she was very amused by this. She picked up her cup of tea. “To our future.”

He walked Narcissa outside, and waited for her to apparate before he turned in the direction he’d seen them disappear to. He walked slowly, admiring the lanterns decorating each side of the Alley. All Hallows Eve was fast approaching and Diagon Alley was decked out heavily for the celebration.   
  
“We still need the stationery for all the invites and my dress! What do I do for my dress?” He walked past a woman talking to someone inside the shop and only paused when he heard a very familiar voice.  
  
Remus stepped out of the Magical Instruments shop, frustrated beyond measure. Sirius was  _not_  coming with them on their next trip to shop. “Lily, you dragged us along because you wanted our opinion. I’m not entirely sure why  _I_  am here, but I can help you calm down. Apparently it’s my  _gift_. He glared behind him at Sirius, who shrugged. Sirius turned to Lily and gave a roguish grin. Lucius recognised them now from inside the cafe. Narcissa had pointed out the black-haired man as her disowned cousin, Sirius Black. He’d felt shock, though he got over it quickly. Trust Remus to be an acquaintance of someone who was practically disowned royalty.  
  
Lily rolled her eyes. “No bachelor party, Sirius!”  
  
Sirius, at once, looked crestfallen. “Lily,  _come on_! Even Remus thinks it’s a good idea.”   
  
Remus turned with his mouth open, offended. “What is  _that_  supposed to mean?”  
  
Lily thought him adorable and her expression said so. “Oh, seriously, Moony? You know you’re a good guy like me!” Lily said grabbing hold of him and giving him a hug. Remus stared at Sirius, daring him to say something right then and there, until he noticed someone standing behind him. Sirius curiously turned, and then wished he hadn’t.  
  
He turned around immediately. “Until recently, anyway,” he mumbled under his breath, but Remus still heard him and glared. He gestured to Lily, who was now staring at a pair of ‘never empty’ crystal glasses. Sirius shook his head, but Remus gestured again, this time with more urgency as he backed away.

Lucius glanced at the man backing away from the pair, Lily and Sirius, and headed towards a side alley nearby. He could see Remus moving closer to Sirius and saying something in his ear while Lily had turned away. Sirius frowned at him and then looked around, his eyes falling on Lucius. He seemed disappointed and said something that made Remus’ spine straighten. Remus sniped back and began walking away, stopping only when Sirius put his hand on his arm. Remus turned back and Lucius made out the words that Sirius said to him, clearly.  
  
 _Just, be careful._  
  
“What exactly does he think I’ll do to you?” he asked Remus once the teenager made it into his hiding spot.   
  
Remus cocked his head to the side as he leaned on the brick wall opposite him. “Nothing you haven’t already done to me, I’m sure.” His eyes traversed Lucius’ face and the blond could tell when his eyes noticed the family ring on his finger. It spoke of his betrothal to Narcissa now that the papers had been signed. He’d finally received it from his vault earlier in the month. Despite all the legal tape surrounding his access, Abraxas had made sure he would get it, come hell or high water. “When do you marry her?” he asked, feigning a casual tone.  
  
He didn’t even pretend to be surprised when Remus’ eyes snapped back to his. “Next year, in June.”  
  
Remus adjusted his frame and crossed his arms over his chest. “Haven’t seen you in a while, what did you want?” He turned his head to watch his two friends. “I can’t bunk off right now, Lily is in distress about her wedding. James isn’t helping at all and Sirius is being an arse.”  
  
Lucius really didn’t care. “Not now, tonight.”  
  
Remus seemed surprised. “You’re not seeing your fiancée tonight?” He’d thought their earlier rendezvous was just a taste of what he’d be subjected to from now on.  
  
Lucius shook his head. “I’m the acting head of my family while my father is ill and incarcerated. If I had my way-” He paused, feigning shock “–and look at that, I  _do_.” Remus tried to hide his amusement. “I won’t  _see_  her at all. She’s fine with that, we have an agreement. Her family is taking care of everything. All I have to do is turn up.” He waited.  
  
Remus looked outside towards his friends on the main Alley. Sirius was speaking to Lily, probably trying to explain where he was without letting on  _where he was_. “Are you paying me?” he finally said with a small sly smile on his face.  
  
Lucius gave him an obvious look. “Do I really need to?”  
  
Remus shrugged. “A guy’s got to eat.”  
  
Lucius clucked his tongue as he surveyed the cocky little shit. “We can negotiate a price tonight.” he said, knowing the only thing they'd be negotiating on would be position.  
  
Remus’ eyes reflected what he knew had to be gleaming from his. Still, he relaxed only when Remus nodded. “Same place?” A small slip of parchment appeared between Lucius’ fingers as he shook his head. Remus looked down at it, as if he was surprised, but he took it out of his hand and pocketed it. He looked up, those amber eyes shining at him, bright, even in the dim light of the alleyway. “I’ll see you.” Lucius nodded and he walked away, taking that relaxed feeling he radiated with him.  
  
From his vantage point, he could see the group notice Remus walking back. Only Narcissa’s cousin looked in his direction while the redhead asked Remus where he’d been. A sudden sharp pain burned on his arm. He looked down and pulled back his sleeve to see the serpent twisting angrily and he narrowed his eyes at it. His eyes rose to the Alley once more as he took out his wand, watching Remus and his friends walk up towards to the other shops. He was glad, now, that he’d asked to meet with him later. He had a feeling he would need it. That calm presence Remus always had about him, he would long for it while in the Dark Lord’s presence. He apparated from his spot, once Remus had disappeared into Twilfit and Tattings. He knew he’d stop going after him one day, he would have to. But not today.  
  
Not yet.  
  
~Fin~ 


End file.
